Harry Potter and His Twin Sister, Year 1
by Black-fire Phoenix Wings
Summary: ABANDONED! Don't read this, please, just don't... crappiness abound... and a Mary-Sue...
1. disregard this, please

Just a few words of note from the author

Hello, to anyone that is bothering to read this. I just want you to know, if you do not want to read this, there is a button above that will take you to the next chapter- click it.

Okay? Good, now I know I am only writing to those you either are interested enough or bored enough...

I first started writing this when I was considerably younger- that's why there are certain elements that are *shrug* or *cringe*. Now that I am much older and decided to sign up onto this website, I figured that this would be appropriate for the first one that I will post- and continue to work on.

Just so you know, yes, the first three or four 'books' will follow a _very similar _plot to the originals- trust me, though, it will end up getting more interesting. Also, you may notice that my writing skills improve slightly as the story goes on, so, if you start reading it and think, "wow, her writing needs some work," then, trust me, it'll get better as it goes on.

I haven't exactly completed this yet, though I have begun to work on it. That means that, at first, updates will be really fast and then probably revert to being really... really... slow. I know what it's like to absolutely fall in love with a story, but then give up and forget about it because the author will not update. Yeah, that means I'm looking at some of you fanfiction authors out there.

Anyway, updates will come to be slow, but hopefully I will not end up abandoning this fanfic. I say "hopefully" because I have an unfortunate tendency to often not finish my writing things, and, who knows what will happen. Of course, the more popularity it has, the more I will probably upload and update.

Another thing, though I know you've probably heard this from countless other fanfiction authors, I like reviews. Constructive criticism is welcome, but be nice. Remember, this is my first fanfic. Also, I am open to new ideas and suggestions, so be sure to put them in your reviews if you have them.

Every once-in-a-while, I will probably be developing an idea- or something of the like- and specifically ask for suggestions or a poll on something (for example, pairings). These will likely be as a footnote on the fanfiction or on my profile- if I can figure out how to work the thing properly.

Well, that is all for the moment. Yes, I will likely post these author's notes at the beginning of all of my separate stories. You may read the actually story now, I bid you a short farewell.

Now, go forth, young grasshopper.

Sincerely,

Black-fire Phoenix Wings


	2. Prologue

Disclaimer: I, evidently, do not own Harry Potter. That would be J.K. Rowling. And, also, if they come up, I also do not own any of the references.

**Bold= **Exact words from book (which I do not own)

**Harry Potter, his twin sister, and the Philosopher's Stone**

* * *

**Prologue**

**Mr. and Mrs. Dursley, of number four, Privet Drive, were proud to say that they were perfectly normal, thank you very much. They were the last people you'd expect to be involved in anything strange or mysterious, because they just didn't hold with such nonsense.**

**Mr. Dursley was the director of a firm called Grunnings, which made drills. He was a big, beefy man with hardly any neck, although he did have a very large mustache. Mrs. Dursley was thin and blonde and nearly twice the usual amount of neck, which came in very useful as she spent so much of her time craning over garden fences, spying on the neighbors. The Dursleys had a small son called Dudley and in their opinion there was no finer boy anywhere.**

**The Dursleys had everything they wanted, but they also had a secret, and their greatest fear was that somebody would discover it. They didn't think they could bear it if anyone found out about the Potters. Mrs. Potter was Mrs. Dursley's sister, but they hadn't met for several years; in fact, Mrs. Dursley pretended she didn't have a sister, because her sister and her good-for-nothing husband were as unDursleyish as it was possible to be. The Dursleys shuddered to think what the neighbors would say if the Potters arrived in the street. The Dursleys knew that the Potters had a small son **and a daughter**, too, but they had never seen** them. These children were **another good reason for keeping the Potters away; they didn't want Dudley mixing with **children** like that.**

**When Mr. and Mrs. Dursley woke up on the dull, gray Tuesday our story starts, there was nothing about the cloudy sky outside to suggest that strange and mysterious things would soon be happening all over the country. Mr. Dursley hummed as he picked out his most boring tie for work, and Mrs. Dursley gossiped away happily as she wrestled a screaming Dudley into his high chair.**

**None of them noticed a large, tawny owl flutter past the window.**

**At half past eight, Mr. Dursley picked up his briefcase, pecked Mrs. Dursley on the cheek, and tried to kiss Dudley good-bye but missed, because Dudley was now having a tantrum and throwing his cereal at the walls. "Little tyke," chortled Mr. Dursley as he left the house. He got into his car and backed out of number four's drive.**

**It was on the corner of the street that he noticed the first sign of something peculiar- a cat reading a map. For a second, Mr. Dursley didn't realize what he had seen- then he jerked his head around to look again. There was a tabby cat standing on the corner of Privet Drive, but there wasn't a map in sight. What could he have been thinking of? It must have been a trick of the light. Mr. Dursley blinked and stared at the cat. It stared back. As Mr. Dursley drove around the corner and up the road, he watched the cat in his mirror. It was now reading the sign that said Privet Drive- no, **_**looking **_**at the sign; cats couldn't read maps **_**or **_**signs. Mr. Dursley gave himself a little shake and put the cat out of his mind. As he drove toward town he thought of nothing except a large order of drills he was hoping to get that day.**

**But on the edge of town, drills were driven out of his mind by something else. As he sat in the usual morning traffic jam, he couldn't help noticing that there seemed to be a lot of strangely dressed people about. People in cloaks. Mr. Dursley couldn't bear people who dressed in funny clothes- the getups you saw on young people! He supposed this was some stupid new fashion. He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel and his eyes fell on a huddle of these weirdoes standing quite close by. They were whispering excitedly together. Mr. Dursley was enraged to see that a couple of them weren't young at all; why, that man had to be older than he was, and wearing an emerald-green cloak! The nerve of him! But then it struck Mr. Dursley that this was probably some silly stunt- these people were obviously collecting for something… yes, that would be it. The traffic moved on and a few minutes later, Mr. Dursley arrived in the Grunnings parking lot, his mind back on drills.**

**Mr. Dursley always sat with his back to the window in his office on the ninth floor. If he hadn't, he might have found it harder to concentrate on drills that morning. **_**He **_**didn't see the owls swooping past in broad daylight, though people down in the street did; they pointed and gazed open-mouthed as owl after owl sped overhead. Most of them had never seen an owl even a nighttime. Mr. Durlsey, however, had a perfectly normal, owl-free morning. He yelled at five different people. He made several important telephone calls and shouted a bit more. He was in a very good mood until lunchtime, when he thought he'd stretch his legs and walk across the road to buy himself a bun from the bakery.**

**He'd forgotten all about the people in cloaks until he passed a group of them next to the baker's. He eyed them angrily as he passed. He didn't know why, but they made him uneasy. This bunch were whispering excitedly, too, and he couldn't see a single collecting tin. It was on his way back past them, clutching a large doughnut in a bag, that he caught a few words of what they were saying.**

"**The Potters, that's right, that's what I heard-"**

"**-yes, their son, Harry-"**

**Mr. Dursley stopped dead. Fear flooded him. He looked back at the whisperers as if he wanted to say something to them, but thought better of it.**

**He dashed back to the road, hurried up to his office, snapped at his secretary not to disturb him, seizing his telephone, and had almost finished dialing his home number when he changed his mind. He put the receiver back down and stroked his mustache, thinking… no, he was being stupid. Potter wasn't such an unusual name. He was sure there were lots of people called Potter who had a son called Harry. Come to think of it, he wasn't even sure his nephew **_**was **_**called Harry. He'd never seen the boy. **Or the girl for that matter. **It might have been Harvey. Or Harold. There was no point in worrying Mrs. Dursley; she always got so upset at any mention of her sister. He didn't blame her- if **_**he'd **_**had a sister like that… but all the same, those people in cloaks…**

**He found it a lot harder to concentrate on drills that afternoon and when he left the building at five o'clock, he was still so worried that he walked straight into someone just outside the door.**

"**Sorry," he grunted, as the tiny old man stumbled and almost fell. It was a few seconds before Mr. Dursley realized that the man was wearing a violet cloak. He didn't seem at all upset at being almost knocked to the ground. On the contrary, his face split into a wide smile and he said in a squeaky voice that made passerby stare, "Don't be sorry, my dear sir, for nothing could upset me today! Rejoice, for You-Know-Who has gone at last! Even Muggles like yourself should be celebrating, this happy, happy day!"**

**And the old man hugged Mr. Dursley around the middle and walked off.**

**Mr. Dursley stood rooted to the spot. He had been hugged by a complete stranger. He also thought he had been called a Muggle, whatever that was. He was rattled. He hurried to his car and set off for home, hoping that he was imagining things, which he had never hoped before, because he didn't approve of imagination.**

**As he pulled into the driveway of number four, the first thing he saw- and it didn't improve his mood- was the tabby cat he'd spotted that morning. It was now sitting on his garden wall. He was sure it was the same one; it had the same markings around is eyes.**

"**Shoo!" said Mr. Dursley loudly.**

**The cat didn't move. It just gave him a stern look. Was this normal cat behavior? Mr. Dursley wondered. Trying to pull himself together, he let himself into the house. He was still determined not to mention anything to his wife.**

**Mrs. Dursley had had a nice, normal day. She told him over dinner all about Mrs. Next Door's problems with her daughter and how Dudley had learned a new word ("Won't!"). Mr. Dursley tried to act normally. When Dudley had been put to bed, he went into the living room in time to catch the last report on the evening news:**

"**And finally, bird-watchers everywhere have reported that the nation's owls have been behaving very unusually today. Although owls normally hunt at night and are hardly ever seen in daylight, there have been hundreds of sightings of these birds flying in every direction since sunrise. Experts are unable to explain why the owls have suddenly changed their sleeping pattern." The newscaster allowed himself to grin. "Most mysterious. And now, over to Jim McGuffin with the weather. Going to be any more showers of owls tonight, Jim?"**

"**Well, Ted," said the weatherman, "I don't know about that, but it's not only the owls that have been acting oddly today. Viewers as far apart as Kent, Yorkshire, and Dundee have been phoning in to tell me that instead of the rain I promised yesterday, they've had a downpour of shooting stars! Perhaps people have been celebrating Bonfire Night early- it's not until next week, folks! But I can promise a wet night tonight."**

**Mr. Dursley sat frozen in his armchair. Shooting stars all over Britain? Owls flying by daylight? Mysterious people in cloaks all over the place? And a whisper, a whisper about the Potters…**

**Mrs. Dursley came into the living room carrying two cups of tea. It was no good. He'd haave to say something to her. He cleared his throat nervously. "Er- Petunia, dear- you haven't heard from your sister lately, have you?"**

**As he had expected, Mrs. Dursley looked shocked and angry. After all, they normally pretended she didn't have a sister.**

"**No," she said sharply. "Why?"**

"**Funny stuff on the news," Mr. Dursley mumbled. "Owls… shooting stars… and there were a lot of funny-looking people in town today…"**

"_**So?" **_**snapped Mrs. Durlsey.**

"**Well, I just thought… maybe… it was something to do with… you know… **_**her **_**crowd."**

**Mrs. Dursley sipped her tea through pursed lips. Mr. Dursley wondered whether he dared tell her he'd heard the name "Potter" He decided that he didn't dare. Instead he said, as casually as he could, "Their son- he'd be about Dudley's age now, wouldn't he?"**

"**I suppose so," said Mrs. Dursley stiffly.**

"**What's his name again? Howard, isn't it?"**

"**Harry. Nasty, common name, if you ask me."**

"**Oh, yes," said Mr. Dursley, his heart sinking horribly. "Yes, I quite agree."**

**He didn't say another word on the subject as they went upstairs to bed. While Mrs. Dursley was in the bathroom, Mr. Dursley crept to the bedroom window and peered down into the front garden. The cat was still there. It was staring down Privet Drive as though it were waiting for something. **

**Was he imagining things? Could all this have anything to do with the Potters? If it did… if it got out that they were related to a pair of- well, he didn't think he could bear it. **

**The Dursleys got into bed. Mrs. Dursley fell asleep quickly but Mr. Dursley lay awake, turning it all over in his mind. His last, comforting thought before he fell asleep was that even if the Potters **_**were **_**involved, there was no reason for them to come near him and Mrs. Dursley. The Potters knew very well what he and Petunia thought about them and their kind… He couldn't see how he and Petunia could get mixed up in anything that might be going on- he yawned and turned over- it couldn't affect**_** them.**_

**How very wrong he was**…


	3. Chapter 1 The Beginning

Disclaimer: As I said before, I am not J.K. Rowling, so I don't own Harry Potter or, if they ever come up, any of the references.

Author's Note: Yes, I know this chapter is short and cheesy, but as I said, if you actually read what I had written, I haven't really redone this for a while. Also, like I said, it will probably get better.

Also, as a response to my first review- thanks a bunch- the change will be gradual. Very gradual.

Okay, glad I got that one off of my chest! Now, please, continue...

* * *

An odd man was waiting at the corner of Privet Drive. On the opposite side of the street, a cat was approaching him. The cat went behind a wall; from the other side walked a woman. She was a serious looking woman with black hair pulled into a tight bun.

"Why, hello, professor," the old man said. His name was Albus Dumbledore, a.k.a. Professor Dumbledore. He had a long white-silver hair and a white-silver beard just as long. He had midnight blue eyes with an odd twinkle. He was wearing half-moon shaped glasses on the bridge of his crooked nose. The woman's name was Minerva McGonagall, a.k.a. Professor McGonagall.

"Would you care for a lemon drop?" he asked politely.

"A what?" McGonagall replied, confused.

"A lemon drop," Dumbledore explained, "it's a muggle sweet I'm rather fond of."

McGonagall had a disapproving look, "No, thank you. Professor, really, I hardly think this is a time for lemon drops."

"Indeed, it isn't," Dumbledore agreed solemnly.

McGonagall gave a small sigh, "You wouldn't believe the kinds of things that the wizarding world was doing today- you'd think they'd all lost their heads! Most of them show up in the muggle world, wearing robes and cloaks, not even trying to blend in! Owls were flying everywhere!" she said this in a disapproving manner. She then added, almost slyly, "And then, there are the rumors going around."

Dumbledore said, without looking at her, "Personally, I couldn't blame them. We've had little to celebrate for years. And I would assume your mentioning the rumors would suggest that you are looking for a confirmation from me."

"Well," said McGonagall sheepishly, "I _was_ hoping you'd enlighten me."

"The rumors are true." he confirmed.

"But-"

"I'm sorry Minerva, but Lily and James are dead." he said sadly.

McGonagall reached into her cloak and pulled out a tissue as her eyes watered. Dumbledore patted her on the back soothingly saying, "I know, I know."

She pulled herself together after a few moments and continued, "They're also saying that well- that their son, their one year old son, stopped _him_."

Dumbledore turned to face her, "That part is also true."

"But how? How is it possible for a little one year old to stop the darkest wizard in existence?!"

Dumbledore popped a lemon drop into his mouth, "We can only guess." he answered simply. McGonagall mumbled something that sounded a lot like "amazing."

A thought suddenly came to her, "Professor, with their parents dead, where will Lily and James' twins, Harry and Iris, go?"

"I've come to bring them here, to their aunt and uncle." he indicated the house that they were standing in front of.

McGonagall was taken aback, "What?! Here?! Dumbledore, you can't! I've been watching these muggles all day; they are by far some of the worst muggles I've seen!" Dumbledore tried to explain but she just went on, "They'd never understand them! Especially not Harry, being who he is! For, crying out loud, even Lily never thought highly of them, and she's Petunia's sister!" she had to take a breath; Dumbledore took his opportunity to speak.

"That is exactly my point, Minerva. I'm sure that Harry will become very famous later; he already is, actually. I'm also sure that there are many other magical families who'd be more than willing to take are of them.

"But, that's just it! Harry's going to be absolutely famous in the wizarding world. Can you imagine what all that attention would do to someone's head, especially a growing child's," McGonagall was absolutely silent, "Also after Voldemort's-" McGonagall flinched and Dumbledore stopped for a moment, "Really, Professor, I don't understand why people are so afraid of a name; it only brings about more fear of the person, but anyway," he continued with his original topic, "As I was saying, after Voldemort's" McGonagall didn't flinch this time, "downfall, the death eaters and his other followers will probably try to take revenge on little Harry. It's best to keep him away from that. Besides, these muggles are the only family they have left."

"Well" she mumbled, "when you put it like that, I suppose that it's best to keep him and his sister in the muggle world. But-" she motioned her hand towards the house, "why these people? I still say that they aren't the best place for two other children to grow up."

Dumbledore gave her a gentle look, "Believe me, Minerva, I _do _have my reasons." she didn't go any further than that.

"How are they getting here?" she asked.

"Hagrid is bringing them," he answered. She would have protested at that, but she didn't to save herself from definite embarrassment. A few moments later, there was a loud noise and a flying motorcycle landed near them. A huge, wild looking man stepped off of it carrying two bundles of blankets.

"Hello Hagrid," Dumbledore greeted, "Everything went well, I expect."

"Yessir, Professor," Hagrid said, " 'ello Professor McGonagall."

"Hello, Hagrid," McGonagall replied and then looked at the motorbike, "I can't say I'm fond of your choice of transportation, but no matter. How'd you get it?"

"Young Sirius Black lent it to me, I should probly geddit back to'em."

They looked at the bundles. In them, there were two sleeping one year old babies. The boy had a tuft of black hair and a fresh lightening bolt shaped scar on his forehead, "Is that where-" McGonagall began.

"Yes," Dumbledore answered, "That's where Voldemort cursed him, he will have that scar forever."

The girl had a small bit of red hair, but no scar could be seen. Apparently, Voldemort had only tried to kill the boy. Dumbledore took the two bundles and carried them to the Dursley's front doorstep and set them there. Along with the two toddlers, he placed a letter there. They just stood there until, finally, Hagrid broke the silence, "Well, best be getting this bike back to Sirius, g'night Perfessers."

"I suppose I better be getting on as well," McGonagall said. She turned into a cat and left.

Alone, Dumbledore muttered to the two one year olds, "Good luck," and turned away. He disappeared.

* * *

Well, that's the first "official" chapter. Love it, hate it? I know, very amateur writing- I wasn't a professional then, and I'm certainly not now.


	4. Chapter 2 Ten Years Later

Disclaimer: Still don't own Harry Potter, that's still J.K. Rowling. Or the references (if they ever come up...)

I can't believe how many people are reading this...

Please, continue...

Ten Years Later

"Come on! Get up!"

Aunt Petunia's shrill woke Harry up in an instant.

"Are you two up yet?!"

"We're coming." Harry answered as quietly as he could.

It was dark in the little cupboard under the stairs, so he turned on the light bulb. The light was still a little dim, but it was sufficient to see. Harry James Potter was a small and skinny boy. He was smaller and skinnier than many boys his age. He had constantly messy black hair and emerald green almond shaped eyes. He wore round glasses held together with tape. On his forehead was a lightening bolt shaped scar. He didn't really know how he'd gotten it. When he was little he had asked Aunt Petunia how he'd gotten it. She just had said, or rather, snapped, "In the car crash when your parents died, and don't ask questions."

Harry sighed. The cupboard was small but just large enough for a small bed and an old mattress on the floor. He turned to the girl that was sleeping on the mattress. She was sleeping heavily. He couldn't really blame her since she was up half the night reading a novel. She loved to read. The sleeping girl was Harry's sister, twin sister, actually.

Her name was Iris Lillian Potter. She had dark red hair that went a couple inches below her shoulders. Her eyes were emerald green, the same shade as her brother, but larger and a different shape.

The only reason she was sleeping on the mattress was because she flat out refused to sleep on the bed. The bed was slightly more comfortable. It was often a small fight between them on who would sleep where. The funny thing was, they were always arguing that the other should sleep on the bed. Harry was always insisting that Iris should sleep on the bed. Sometimes she would give in or be defeated, but she never 'went down without a fight.'

Harry was always protecting Iris. He said that he just wasn't going to let her get hurt if he could help it. He protected her, but he never went over the top about it. He reached over and gently shook her and whispered, "Come on, Iris, it's time to get up. Aunt Petunia will have a fit." she opened her eyes and stretched a bit. Standing up, she was about the same height as her brother and slightly thinner. Harry always said that she was too thin, and he used to try to give her some of his food, of course, she didn't often accept it.

"Isn't it Dudley's birthday?" she asked sleepily.

"All the more reason we should probably hurry up," he replied, "Yes, it is."

"I guess so."

"You didn't get him a present this year did you?"

"…"

"You would've gotten him something?!"

"No, I didn't, that would just make it worse. Look, Harry, Dudley's not so much of a bad person, he's just really, really spoiled."

"Don't tell me you like him."

"He's my cousin!"

They thought about what they had just said and laughed. Dudley was their fat, spoiled cousin. Their Aunt Petunia was their dead mother's sister. Aunt Petunia was married to Uncle Vernon. Fortunately, Iris and Harry looked absolutely nothing like the rest of their family.

Uncle Vernon was extremely fat. He had tufty brown hair and had mean little dark brown eyes. He owned a business called Grunnings, which made drills. Aunt Petunia was thin, almost bony, with almost no shape. She had short blonde hair and blue eyes. She had a long neck that she would normally use to spy on the neighbors, she loved gossip. Dudley was fat, a pig in a wig as Harry would put it. He had a mat of blond hair plastered to his head and watery blue eyes.

The odd thing about Iris was that she tended to see things in people that others didn't. When she was little, she learned that she could read peoples' expressions, rather well. It was a rare occasion hat she decided that she didn't like someone immediately.

Harry and Iris were both bullied at school. Harry had to wear Dudley's old clothes, which were much to large for him. He was laughed at for that and that his glasses were held together with tape. Iris had to wear the old clothes of a girl that used to live next door, thankfully, they were more her size, but still baggy. At school, she was bullied for her clothes and her smartness. Even when they weren't at school, Dudley would often bully them. At school, and when they were over, he and his group of big, stupid friends would bully the both of them.

"Are you two going to get up already?!" Aunt Petunia shrilled, "Stop being so lazy and HURRY UP!!"

When they needed some privacy they would hang up an old sheet to split the cupboard in two. Harry hung up the sheet up and they changed into their clothes. He took the sheet back down and they both walked into the kitchen.

Iris made the bacon while Harry made the eggs. While they were doing that, Dudley was counting his presents which were stacked up in a huge pile in the nearby living room.

"Thiry-six," Dudley said with distaste, "That's two less than last year."

"Jeez," Harry whispered to Iris, "Isn't he just the softy." Iris smacked him playfully on the arm.

"Duddy," Aunt Petunia cooed, "You haven't counted this one from Auntie Marge."

"Thirty-seven, then." Dudley answered still sounding unimpressed.

"How about this, Dudders, we'll buy you another two presents at the zoo. Then you'll have one more than last year."

"So that's…" his face scrunched up in thought, "Thirty-nine." he sat down in his chair, "All right then."

"Yeah, definitely the softy," Harry whispered again.

Iris sighed and rolled her eyes, resisting, with difficulty, a laugh.

Every year on Dudley's birthday, Aunt Petunia, Uncle Vernon, Dudley, and a friend of his would go somewhere. Last year, they went to an amusement park. The year before that, they went to a movie. The year before _that_ they went to a burger restaurant. Every year, Iris and Harry would go to Mrs. Figg's house. It was very boring there. The place smelled strongly of cabbage and Mrs. Figg would show them pictures of all the cats she had owned. Iris liked cats but Harry, not so much. This year, they were going to the zoo with Piers.

For the next half an hour, they ate their breakfast and watched Dudley open his presents. At some point the phone rang, and Aunt Petunia went to answer it, she came back with a sour look on her face. "Bad news, Vernon," she said as Dudley pulled off the wrapper on his new DVD player, "Mrs. Figg's broken her leg, she can't take them." she jerked her head in the twins' direction.

Dudley's mouth dropped open and Uncle Vernon looked mad. Then he thought for a moment.

"Perhaps we could phone Marge?" he suggested.

"Bad idea, Vernon, you know she hates them." This was often how Harry and Iris' aunt and uncle talked about them- like they weren't there."

"What about your friend- oh, what's her name- Yvonne?" suggested again with less enthusiasm.

"She's on vacation with her boyfriend in Majorca," she snapped.

"You could leave us here," Harry suggested hopefully, Iris nudged him on the shoulder- not good idea.

"We'd come back and find the house in ruins!" Aunt Petunia snarled. She glared at both of them viciously. She turned back to Uncle Vernon, "We could take them to the zoo… and leave them in the car."

"No way they're sitting in that car alone, it's new!" Uncle Vernon responded. They bickered some more about it, but were interrupted when the doorbell rang. Aunt Petunia ran to get the door and a few moments later, Piers Polkiss walked into the kithed with his mother. Piers had a thin face that looked like a rat. He was thinner than Dudley, but was still a bit chubby.

With no options left, Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon decided to take Harry and Iris to the zoo with them. Piers said bye to his mother and they all walked to the car. Uncle Vernon, before going outside, pulled Harry and Iris aside, "I'm warning you," he snarled, "Any funny stuff, and you two will be in that cupboard until next year."

They arrived at the zoo about a half an hour later. Piers and Dudley ran to the entrance with Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon following them. Harry and Iris kept their distance and walked behind all of them. They looked at all sorts of animals and the twins made jokes about who they thought some of them resembled. The zoo was a lot of fun for them until the reptile exhibit.

Piers easily found the largest snake in the place. It was a large Boa Constrictor, currently sleeping. Piers and Dudley tapped on the glass to wake it up but it slept on. They became bored and looked at other reptiles. Harry and Iris went over to get a closer look.

The snake woke up and lifted its head so that it was eye level with Harry. It winked at him.

"Iris," Harry said, "This snake just winked at me."

"I know, I saw it." she replied.

Harry turned back to the snake, "Hello little sssnake," he spoke, but instead of his own voice, it came out as a kin of hiss.

"What bringss you here?" the snake hissed back.

"Harry!" Iris exclaimed.

"What?! I don't know how that snake talked!" he answered.

"Harry, I didn't hear that snake talk, it was hissing, and so were you!"

"What?!" he exclaimed, "No way! I said hello to that snake and it replied!"

"Harry listen to me- I don't know what you were speaking, but it definitely wasn't English. If I were to guess, I would say you were speaking in some snake language. If you were looking in your reflection on the glass, you would have seen your lips moving that way."

"How could I have possibly talked in a different language when one, I don't know snake language and two, I sort of heard myself speak English… with some hissing."

"I don't know, but perhaps-"

She was cut off because Dudley suddenly came behind them. He shouted to his parents and friend, "HEY, come over here! Look at this snake! You'll never believe what it's doing!"

Dudley shoved Harry and Iris out of the way, and he and his friend put their noses against the glass to watch the snake. The next thing Harry and Iris knew, Dudley and his friend had fallen into the tank because the glass had just disappeared. The snake slithered out of the exhibit, passed Dudley and Pier (took a playful snap at them) and slithered past the twins. It looked at them and said, "Thankss" to Harry then slithered away.

Maybe Harry was going crazy.

They finally left after the zoo manager finished his constant apologies. They drove to Piers house to drop him off. He and Dudley were both wrapped in a towel (they fell in the pond that was in the exhibit) blabbering on about how the snake had nearly choked them to death. Of course, in truth, it had just playfully snapped at their heals.

"They were talking to the snake!" Piers exclaimed, pointing at Harry and Iris. "They were talking to it!"

Uncle Vernon stiffened and turned his head toward them. He gave them both dark looks and continued driving. They dropped Piers off at his house, and drove away without bothering to explain to his mother. Uncle Vernon drove dangerously fast until they finally got home, the twins mentally gulped.

Aunt Petunia and Dudley went inside but Uncle Vernon took Iris and Harry by the wrists, gripping unnecessarily hard, and dragged them into the kitchen. He finally released them, shoving a little bit which caused Iris to loose her balance and fall. Harry helped her up and she scrambled back to her feet. They forced themselves to look into their uncle's furious eyes. Iris noticed her uncle's hand twitch a lot. She could see that he dearly wanted to wrap that hand around their necks. Finally, Uncle Vernon started to shout.

"WHAT IN THE WORLD DO YOU THINK YOU WERE DOING?! HOW DARE YOU RUIN DUDLEY'S BIRTHDAY!"

Harry gathered his courage, "How the heck did we do anything! How do you expect us to explain how the glass disappeared! My best guess would be magic but-" Iris stopped him.

Uncle Vernon had suddenly turned pale. After a while he turned green then red faster than a traffic light. He seemed outraged, "DON'T- YOU- EVER- SAY- THAT- AGAIN!! You are going to your cupboard, AND YOU WILL STAY THERE FOR A MONTH!! You are not going to come out, and if you sneak out, YOU'RE NEVER GOING TO COME OUT OF THAT CUPBOAD AGAIN! DO OU UNDERSTAND ME?!!"

"Y-yes Uncle Vernon," Iris stuttered.

They walked to the cupboard as fast as they could without running. The moment they were 'safe' in their cupboard they talked about what had just happened.

"What do you think he was talking about when he said to never say that again?" Harry asked.

Iris gave a sigh, "Honestly, I don't really know. He could have meant talking back, but we've done that a few times before and he didn't act like that. Perhaps it was when you said 'magic,' that _was _when he started acting odd. I mean the Dursleys are the type to hate that sort of nonsense, aren't they?"

"Yes, but, why would you act like that for just hearing the word, 'magic?'"

"Harry, this is the Dursleys we're talking about."

"I know," then a thought came to him, "Were you reading his expression?"

"Well," she concentrated on the memory, "I was really not paying much attention but- I think that- he looked like he was remembering- or thinking- about something- or someone. Apparently, he looked like he hated it- and was afraid of it." she sighed, "I'm sorry, I really wasn't paying much attention."

"Iris," he said, "I really have no idea how you can get all that from an expression. I mean, it's cool and everything, but even if you're not paying all that much attention- how?"

She shrugged, "I don't know myself. I guess you just learn it and get used to it."

They were quiet for a moment until Harry realized something, "If we can't come out of the cupboard," he thought out loud, "then they're probably going to bring us some food- probably not very much."

Iris groaned, Harry I'm not going to- we've already been through this- your just skin and- _Harry._" she groaned again.

"Listen, Iris," Harry said softly, "I'm not going to let my sister- the only one I _really_ consider family, to go hungry. I couldn't live with myself if I let something like that happen."

Iris stared at the floor, "Thanks," she muttered. They gave each other a hug.

I had to add smiley faces, I couldn't resist.

Yes, the plot is pretty well the same and will be the same until next year- that's going to be a bit different. Also, next year, I'll be adding some new characters (dun dun DUN).

I'll try not to annoy any of you by sticking "REVIEW ME, PLEASE" in any of your faces to many times. Let me know if I'm doing it too much.

Also, let me know if you don't like my writing style...


	5. Chapter 3 Mysteries and Miseries

Hi, another chapter

and no annoying author's comment!

* * *

Finally, after a month, Harry and Iris were allowed out of their cupboard. They were at the table eating their breakfast. Thankfully, Uncle Vernon calmed down about the snake incident. The twins just shrugged it off after a week or so. That morning, something odd happened.

They sat at the table. Summer vacation had already come, and next year, Iris and Harry would be going to a different middle school than Dudley- Stonewall High. Dudley, on the other hand, was going to private school that Uncle Vernon had once gone to- Smeltings.

They heard the mail slot open and papers plop onto the floor. "Get the mail, boy." Uncle Vernon barked at Harry, none to politely. He got up from the table and went to the front door. He picked up the pile of letters and went through them. The usual except- there were two odd letters in the pile- one addressed to Harry, one to Iris.

He walked into the kitchen looking at the letters. He gave the rest of them to Uncle Vernon who noticed the letters, "What do you have there, boy?"

Harry mentally slapped himself, "Letters to Iris and me." he answered.

"No one would be writing to you two," he chuckled and took the letters from Harry. Harry sat down next to his sister.

"Sorry," he mumbled to her, "I didn't think he would take them."

"Don't worry about it," she mumbled back.

Uncle Vernon opened one of the letters and paled almost immediately. And, just like a month before, he turned green then red. He threw the letter back on the table and stood up so fast, he knocked over his chair, "All of you, Dudley, you two, OUT!" he barked. Aunt Petunia came over, took one look at the letter and paled, "OUT!" he barked again. Dudley, Harry, and Iris scrambled out of the kitchen.

Once they were out, Uncle Vernon slammed the door closed and they heard the click of the lock. Dudley listened through the key hole, Harry listened through the crack between the door and the floor, Iris pressed her ear to the door.

"Look at the address," they heard Aunt Petunia say, "How could they possibly know where the twins sleep?"

"I don't know," said Uncle Vernon, "I mean, these are freaks we're talking about."

"But what are we going to do?"

"We're going to ignore the letters," Uncle Vernon answered, "we are not going to allow them to go to that freak school."

"But-"

"No buts. Well, first thing's first." then they heard the tearing of paper.

They heard footsteps coming toward the door and they all scrambled away.

"Boy!" Uncle Vernon shouted. Harry went over to him obediently. "Go get your sister," he barked. Harry went to get Iris. They walked into the kitchen where Uncle Vernon was waiting.

"You wanted to see us?" Iris asked politely.

"Yes I wanted to see you, you little- er," he paused and then continued in a slightly- very slightly- more polite manner, "Well, you see, you two seem to be getting a little to… er… big for this cupboard. Why don't two… er… move into Dudley's second bedroom."

"Why do we have to move into-" Harry began but was interrupted by Uncle Vernon.

"You will do as you are told and do not ask questions!"

"Yes, Uncle Vernon."

They carried their things to their new bedroom (only took one trip). They got up to their new room and talked while Dudley was having a tantrum about giving up his second bedroom.

"Yeah," Harry agreed sarcastically as they heard raised voices downstairs, "Dudley is definitely a little angel."

"I never said he wasn't a spoiled brat." Iris answered. She got up and walked over to the mattress on the other side of the room. This room was definitely larger than the cupboard, but it was still the smallest bedroom in the house. "I get the mattress," she said firmly. Harry opened his mouth but she just sat on it stubbornly and crossed her arms.

Harry sighed, "You can sure be stubborn- fine."

They didn't say anything for a moment but there was a topic that both of them wanted to get on with; they were just waiting for the other to bring it up.

"They're hiding something," Iris said finally.

"We know that," Harry agreed, "But what are they hiding?" he sighed in frustration, "If only we had that letter."

The next day, two more letter came for the twins. Uncle Vernon burned them in the fireplace. They didn't stop there, though. Day after day, more and more letters came; a larger number than the last. No matter what the Dursleys did- nail the mail slot shut, board up the house- the letters still found a way in.

Uncle Vernon got fed up one Sunday, "Pack your clothes and get to the car," he barked, "We're leaving!" his was turning purple in the face so everyone did as they were told.

By the time everyone had gotten their things in the car, Uncle Vernon had ripped out several handfuls of his own hair. They got into the car and Uncle Vernon drove. They didn't know where they were going, and even Aunt Petunia didn't dare say anything.

They went far out of the neighborhood. Despite the tension, Harry and Iris couldn't help but be in awe at what they were seeing. They'd never been out of the neighborhood; the farthest they'd ever been was school.

Every once in a while, they would pull over some where- a bridge, the edge of mountain- and Uncle Vernon would get out, shake his head, and they would go off again. Eventually, they stopped at a run-down looking hotel on the edge of wherever they were.

They stayed only one night. The next morning, while they were eating breakfast- cold toast and canned tomatoes- the manager went over to them.

"Are, there, perhaps any persons over here by the names of 'Harry Potter' or 'Iris Potter?' We just got about hundred or so addressed to them."

"I'll take them," Uncle Vernon said before the twins could, his face turning red.

Right after breakfast, they left the hotel. They kept driving. The rain began pounding against the car as evening fell.

They stopped at the edge of a rocky beach. Uncle Vernon got out and, later, came back with a maniacal grin on his face. He was carrying a plastic bag and a long, thin box. Walking by him, was an old man with only a few, black teeth.

Uncle Vernon motioned toward them to come out. Reluctantly, they all left the warm, dry car and went out into the cold, wet rain.

"This nice man has agreed to lend us his boat and a cozy little cabin for the night!" he said with a malicious grin.

The old man waved as the five of them climbed into a little row boat out in the stormy sea. They rowed, with some trouble, out to a large rock off of the shore. On that rock was the small, "cozy" cabin they were to stay in.

They climbed out of the boat and onto the rock. They went into the cabin to inspect it. It was a three room cabin; one bedroom, one bathroom, and another everything else room. There was no electricity, a gas stove, bad plumbing, and-

"No television," Dudley whined. "but today is Monday! The Great Humnerto is on every Monday!"

Monday? Iris glanced at Harry. If it was Monday, than tomorrow would be their eleventh birthday. It wasn't as though they were expecting the Dursleys to do anything. They'd never gotten a birthday cake, and last year, as a present, they each got a coat hanger and an old pair of socks. Still, it wasn't everyday that you turned eleven.

By nightfall, the storm was still raging; it made the window shudders flap violently against the windows. It was freezing cold in the little shack. In the plastic bag that Uncle Vernon had, there were five bananas a empty potato chip bags. They'd already eaten their way through the bananas. Uncle Vernon tried to light a fire in the fireplace with the chip bags. Tried, but failed.

Eventually, they went to bed. Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia got the bedroom. Aunt Petunia had made a bed on the couch for Dudley out of all the moldy blankets she could find.

Harry and Iris, on the other hand, only got one thin, moldy blanket each, and were left to find the softest bit of floor that they could. They did that, and waited miserably for morning.


	6. Chapter 4 Birthday Surprise

Okay, a deal's a deal- I have more than three reviews so I will post the next chapter up.

By the way, I realize that this is nearly "word for word" from the book. I wrote this when I was 10/11 years old. Yes, there are some elements that even I can barely stand- actually, they'll be coming up in all little while- but I'm not going to change it. It's just a part of me and my younger days that I don't want to throw away. But I will continue just for the sake of being able to actually finish something that I start and let other people see it. Make sense?

Trust me, I probably wouldn't write something like this at my current age. Though, I'll continue it and try to keep it at the same style for those that might actually be enjoying this to some degree.

Also, I want comments because it seems to be the only means of communication that I have between my readers and me. If there is something that you like or don't like, I won't know that and I won't be able to correct it in the future. I remind you that I've not really let anyone else read this, so I'm not really aware of what other people would want.

Well, there's a chapter to be read. I'll just let you read it. Enjoy.

(by the way, when I wrote this when I was 10/11, I only finished it to the first year. It'll probably be better in the second year. I know, I'm always saying that)

* * *

11:30, still both of them weren't anywhere near asleep.

11:45, close to twelve, almost eleven.

11:50, what was that? Sounded like an engine… must've been thunder.

11:55, five minutes till midnight. Harry wondered if they could wake Dudley up, just to annoy him.

11:58, sounds as though someone's outside…

11:59, almost eleven…

5 seconds, 4 seconds…

3, 2, 1-

BANG!

Harry and Iris jumped and they whipped their heads to the source. Dudley also woke up with a jump saying stupidly, "Where's the cannon?"

The door had been thrown off its hinges. In the doorway was a giant man. He had tangled black hair, mustache, beard, beetle black eyes, and an animal skin coat with many pockets.

"Hullo, erm," he looked back at the door, "Sorry 'bout the door. Ah'll have this cleaned up in 'o pinch."

The giant took out a pink umbrella out of one of his many pockets. As he waved it around, the door was somehow put back on its hinges. The three eleven year olds all felt their jaws drop. At that moment, Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon ran into the room and froze at the sight. Uncle Vernon was holding a gun close to him; so that was what was in the long box.

The giant shivered slightly and then pointed to the empty fireplace, "Do yeh mind?" he asked. Everyone shook their heads slowly. He went over to the fireplace and stood in front of it. They couldn't see what he was doing, but when he stepped away there was a warm, roaring fire.

"Now, ah'm sorry," he noticed the twins, "Harry and Iris, ah bet! Harry you look 'zactly like yer dad, cept fer yer eyes o' course. An' Iris, you look so much like yer mum. Ah haven't seen yeh both since ye were babies." he said as his face lit up.

"Um," Iris said timidly, "You know us?"

The man looked somewhat confused, "Yeah, ah was a friend of yer parents," the twins showed interest at that, the giant understood, "But 'o course. Ah'm sorry, you wouldn' remember. Ah'm Rubeus Hagrid. Yeh can call me Hagrid, everyone does. Ah'm gamekeeper of Hogwarts."

"Hogwarts?" the twins said in unison.

"Yeh, Hogwarts," Hagrid repeated. They still looked confused. "Yeh don' know?"

The twins slowly shook their heads.

"DURSLEY!" Hagrid shouted, enraged.

"No!" Uncle Vernon shouted, pointing the gun shakily at him, "I forbid you to tell him!"

Hagrid walked over to him and snatched the gun. He bent the metal as if it were rubber and threw it to the other side of the room, "A muggle like you ain't gonna stop 'em." he growled at Uncle Vernon as he shrank against the wall.

Harry and Iris were more confused than ever at this point. What in the world was this man talking about?

Hagrid, noticing their confusion, turned back to them, "How do ah tell yeh this? Harry yer a wizard an yer a witch. Yeh see, Hogwarts is a school ter train people like yeh."

"And a muggle?" Iris asked questioningly.

"A term we use fer non-magical folk like these," he said pointedly at the Dursleys, "An' that lot is the biggest bunch 'o muggles ah ever seen."

Thoughts churned in both of the twins' heads. They both knew that their was something different about them, that they could do odd things. When they were in second grade, Harry had somehow turned his teacher's hair blue. After that, she sent the Dursleys a very angry note leading him to have a week of confinement to his cupboard. Another time, when they were in fourth grade, while they were on the playground, one of Dudley's friends walked over to Harry and Iris, who were sitting in the grass. As he made a move to punch Harry, he had somehow been frozen mid action. And then, of course, there was the recent snake incident.

But, then again, Hagrid was suggesting that magic explained it all. Magic didn't exist, that's why it was known as fantasy! Magic might, theoretically, be able to explain it, but with that reasoning they could also say that an invisible dancing mule followed them around and made the odd things happen- it could explain it, that didn't mean it was true.

After all, the twins figured, this could all be some extremely elaborate deception cooked up by the Dursleys for their own amusement. Actually, if they knew that the Dursleys had no sense of humor, they'd find that to be the explanation. However, that didn't really properly explain the odd occurrences.

Still, there was something about Hagrid that was honest. Something about him that let you know that he was a good, friendly person. Something that made you trust him. And the twins couldn't help but trust this familiar stranger.

Slowly, almost reluctantly Iris began to nod her head in acceptance. Trusting her judgment, Harry did the same. Hagrid smiled slightly in understanding.

He reached into his pockets and pulled out two letters and handed them to Harry and Iris. "This'll explain it all more than ah can." Hagrid told them. Then, he took out a box, "Also, somethin' fer yer birthday." in the box was a slightly squished chocolate cake. Written in green icing was 'Happy Birthday Harry and Iris!'

They were both at a loss for words. This much for five minutes. Just five minutes. Although they didn't know it yet, this was perhaps to be the turning point of both of their lives…

…so, obviously, the Dursleys were going to try and ruin it.

"NO!" Uncle Vernon shouted, having harbored enough courage, "I will not let them go to that school! I will not allow it, I will not support it!"

"They'll be in good hands," Hagrid growled at the fat man, "They'll be going to the finest magical school in the world. The headmaster, Albus Dumbled-"

Uncle Vernon interrupted him angrily, "I WILL NOT HAVE SOME CRACKPOT FOOL TEACH HIM MAGIC TRICKS!"

Hagrid snapped. He whipped out his pink umbrella and pointed it threateningly at Uncle Vernon. "Don't- ever- insult- Albus- Dumbledore- in- front- of- me!" He suddenly pointed the umbrella at Dudley, who had been sneaking toward the cake. A purple jet of light shot out of the umbrella and hit Dudley. Next thing everyone knew, Dudley had sprouted a pig's tail and he and his parents were shouting. They all scrambled out of the room leaving the room empty except for the twins and Hagrid.

So, clearly, Hagrid wasn't so bad.

He held the umbrella in his hands regretfully. "Shouldn' have done that," he muttered, then addressed to the twins, "Ah lost mah temper. Ah meant to turn em' into a pig, but ah guess he was already so much like a pig…" Harry and Iris smirked and smiled, "Ah'm not supposed to use magic so… ah would appreciate it if… yah didn' tell anyone."

"Wouldn't say anything." Harry promised.

Hagrid shifted from one foot to the other. "Ah'll take yeh both to Diagon Alley in the mornin' to get your school supplies."

Hagrid took off his large coat and put it on the floor, indicating that was where he was going to sleep. That left the couch for Harry and Iris. Before going to bed though, they read their letters, they read exactly the same- except for who it was addressed to, anyway-:

* * *

HOGWARTS SCHOOL

_of _WITCHCRAFT _and _WIZARDRY

* * *

Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore

_(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock, _

_Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards) _

Dear Mr./Ms. Potter,

We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.

Term begins on September 1. We await your owl by no later than July 31,

Yours sincerely,

Minerva McGonagall

_Deputy Headmistress _

* * *

"Hagrid," Harry called after reading it, "What does it mean 'we await your owl?'"

"Oh! Tha' reminds me." Hagrid said, remembering something. He took out a piece of parchment, a quill pen, and an ink bottle. He dipped the pen into the ink and wrote on the parchment, though the twins couldn't see what. When he was done, he folded the parchment. Out of another one of his pockets on his coat, he took out a ruffled looking brown owl.

He gave the letter to the owl. The owl took the letter in its beak and flew out of the window Hagrid had opened for it. He came back, looking as though he had done something as normal as a telephone call.

The twins just looked at each other; it was going to be an interesting morning, no doubt.

Harry woke up first, though he didn't open his eyes. _It was all a dream, _he thought to himself, _I'm going to wake up in the cupboard. But, it was a nice dream. _Reluctantly he opened his eyes. His heart floated when he found himself in the cabin on the couch. Iris was next to him, snoozing away.

He heard a tapping to the right. He turned to the source to find an owl tapping on the window, with something in its beak, and a leather pouch around its neck.

Harry stood up and went to the window. He hesitated for a moment and then opened the window.

The owl flew immediately flew into the room, dropped the newspaper it was carrying onto the table, and proceeded to attacking the sleeping Hagrid. It fluttered around the giant, pecking at him while he swatted at it.

"No, don't do that!" Harry shouted at the bird trying to get it to stop. The commotion woke Iris up.

"Pay him!" Hagrid shouted.

"What?"

"He wants money for the paper!" Hagrid shouted half asleep. He reached into yet another one of is pockets, and took out a sack and threw it to Harry. "Give him five Knuts!"

"What?" Harry said, not understanding yet again.

"Five of the little bronze coins," Hagrid explained.

Harry opened the sack and counted out five of the bronze coins. He put them into the pouch around the owl's neck and it flew back out of the window.

"Alrigh,'" Hagrid yawned getting up.

Iris rubbed her eyes sleepily and also stood up.

Harry looked at the pouch of money in his hands; it reminded him something. "Um, Hagrid?"

"Yah?" Hagrid told him while he was fiddling with something in the fireplace.

"Uncle Vernon said he wouldn't support us going to Hogwarts," Harry explained, "What are we going to do for money?"

"There's a special fund fer students tha' don' have money fer school," Hagrid told them, "But you won' be needin' that."

"But how else are we going to get the money," Iris asked, somewhat confused.

"Yeh don' think yer parents left yeh both with nothin,' did yeh? Nah, yeh both have a vault full at Gringotts."

"Gringotts?"

"Gringotts, it's the bank in Diagon Alley." Hagrid brought over a tray of fat, juicy sausages.

They ate breakfast before heading outside. There were still puddles on the ground and the sea air was cold and damp. They climbed down to the paddle boat rocking up and down on the surface of the sea. Surprisingly, it had survived the storm, though it had quite a bit of water on the bottom. They climbed in.

"It'd take quite o' while to row," Hagrid said to them both, "Yeh wouldn't tell anyone if ah were tah erm- use some more magic."

"Uh, sure," they said, eager to see more magic.

Hagrid tapped the side of the boat and it magically sped off. As they went, Hagrid opened up the newspaper and began reading it. Although Harry and Iris were bursting with questions, they learned from experience with the Dursleys that if the twins were to bother them while they were reading the newspaper- or pretty much doing anything else, for that matter- bad things would happen.

"Why so quiet? Ah imagine yeh have questions." Hagrid said.

Harry and Iris looked relieved at that. Iris noticed the headline on Hagrid's paper: **Ministry of Magic Makes a Magical Blunder. **

"There's a Ministry of Magic?" she asked.

"Yep, a society has to have a government." He told them.

"What does it do?" Harry asked.

"Lots o' things. Mainly run the community an' keeps muggles from finding out about us." Hagrid explained.

"Why can't muggles know?"

"Well, blimey, could yeh imagine wha' would happen if they did." Hagrid told them, "They'd all look for magical solutions to their problems. Some o' them probably wouldn' like the idea of an entire community of magical peoples. It's just for the best."

"How many people have an account at Gringotts?" Iris asked.

"Just 'bout everyone in the wizarding world does, at least in this and the surroundin' countries."

"But, then, it'd have to be pretty large, wouldn't it?" Iris reasoned.

"The vaults are all underground."

"Underground?"

"Yeh, right under most o' the country. It's very secure. Run by goblins and guarded by dragons. Also, it's all in a maze; can' navigate with out o' bit o' the goblins help. An' then there are hexes and security charms to protect the vaults. In other words, you'd be mad ta' try ta' rob it."

"Did you say that _dragons _guard it?" Harry said, interested.

"Yah, dragons. Always wanted a dragon, ever since ah was little." Hagrid said.

They reached the shore and they climbed out. Hagrid led them to the train station, all the while pointing at ordinary things- like a parking meter- and would say loudly, "See that! Things these muggles dream up, eh!" It was for this reason- and that he was taller than anyone else- that people around would stare and step back.

Hagrid got in line for a train to London. He asked for Iris to handle the money since he was not familiar with muggle currency. On the train, people kept staring at Hagrid; he took up two seats and knitted what looked like a small canary-yellow circus tent.

"What, exactly, are we going to get?" Iris asked, her legs crossed.

"Ah think there's a list in yer letters." Hagrid said, counting the stitches.

Iris reached into her pocket and took out her letter. She took out the second piece of paper in the envelope and held it out for her and Harry to read:

* * *

HOGWARTS SCHOOL

_of _WITCHCRAFT _and _WIZARDRY

_____________

UNIFORM

First-year students will require:

Three sets of plain work robes (black)

One plain pointed hat (black) for day wear

One pair of protective gloves (dragon hide or similar)

One winter coat (black, silver fastenings

Please note that all pupils' clothes should carry name tags

COURSE BOOKS

All students should have a copy of each of the following:

_The Standard Book of Spells (Grade 1) _by Miranda Goshawk

_A History of Magic _by Bathilda Bagshot

_Magical Theory _by Adalbert Waffling

_A Beginners' Guide to Transfiguration _by Emeric Switch

_One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi _by Phyllida Spore

_Magical Drafts and Potions _by Arsenius Jigger

_Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them _by Newt Scamander

_The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection _by Quentin Trimble

OTHER EQUIPMENT

1 wand

1 cauldron (pewter, standard size 2)

1 set glass or crystal phials

1 telescope

1 set brass scales

Students may also bring an owl OR a cat OR a toad.

PARENTS ARE REMINDED THAT FIRST YEARS ARE NOT ALLOWED THEIR OWN BROOMSTICKS

* * *

"They have all of this?" Harry asked, examining the list again.

Hagrid nodded, "An' then some."

"Where _is _Diagon Alley?" Iris asked.

"Hidden from muggle view," was all Hagrid said.

Eventually, they got to their stop. They exited the train and went up the escalator, though Hagrid had some difficulty, "Ah don' know how muggles manage without magic."

On ground level, the streets and sidewalks were crowded. Hagrid, though, managed to part the crowd easily due to his size.

Some doubt managed to creep into Harry's mind again. A whole community of magic people- really? Piles of money stored miles beneath them- really? Dragons- _really_? This all seemed rather... unrealistic and unbelievable.

Hagrid stopped in front of a somewhat run-down looking place. A pub, by the looks of it. An old fashioned sign hung over the door saying: The Leaky Cauldron. "Well, this is it," Hagrid told them, "The Leaky Cauldron. Famous place."

As she looked around, Iris noticed that all of those walking didn't seem to notice this "famous place." Their eyes went from the bookshop on the right straight to the record shop on the left.

"Hagrid?" Iris spoke up, "Do they see it?"

"Nah," Hagrid answered, "Only magical people can see it."

He ushered them both into the little pub. It was alright, perhaps, though a bit shabby and dark. There were plenty of odd people in it, though. There was a small family over by the wall. The girl had- Harry had to blink twice- long dark, blue-violet colored hair. At another table was someone that looked oddly like a hag. A man in a top hat was talking to the bartender, who had a head that resembled a walnut.

Most people seemed to recognize Hagrid; several of them turned to smile and wave. "Hey, Hagrid," the bartender called, "the usual?"

"No thanks, Tom," Hagrid said, "On Hogwarts business," the clapped both of the twins on their shoulders, almost causing both their knees to buckle, "takin' these two to get their things."

Tom the bartender's eyes were transfixed on Harry's forehead. He came out from behind the bar, looking at Harry's scar all the while. "Upon my word, it's Harry Potter!"

Harry and Iris were dumbfounded as people jumped up from their chairs and crowded around Harry. The crowd pushed and shoved each other to get to Harry, acting as though he was this famous person, or something.

All eyes were on him as everyone wrung his hand and introduced themselves, some more than once.

"Welcome back, Mr. Potter, welcome back." Tom the bartender said.

"Doris Crockford, Mr. Potter, I can't believe I'm finally meeting you," said someone else.

After countless introductions and greetings, Hagrid finally pulled both of the twins out of the crowd. He stopped right in front of a man. He was wearing dull purple robes and had salt-and-pepper hair.

"Ah, H-H-Hagrid," the man stuttered.

"Harry, Iris, this is Professor Quirrell. He'll be your Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher at Hogwarts," Hagrid introduced.

"Ah, Mr. P- P- Potter," Quirrell stuttered, ignoring Iris completely, "I teach D-Defense Against t-the Dark A-Arts. N-n-not that you'll b-be needing it, eh." he laughed nervously, "Well, I-I must be get-getting a-a, uh, v-vampire book." he walked away.

"Is he alright?" Harry asked Hagrid, once Quirrell was out of earshot.

"Jus' a bit nervous. Poor bloke. Great mind, though. He wasn' always like this."

"What happened to him?" Iris asked.

"Durin' his teachin' career, he decided he needed to get some first-hand experience. People don' know what happened to him, but when he came back he was terrified of everythin'- the other teachers, the students, even his own subject."

They went out the backdoor of the pub. There wasn't much there, just a few trashcans and a brick wall. Hagrid took out the pink umbrella and began counting the bricks up the wall. He stopped at the third brick up, and went across two.

"Three up, two across," he muttered, "Alright stand back."

He tapped the brick three times with the umbrella. The brick shook and all of the other bricks began moving and rearranging. Next thing that they knew, the brick wall was out of the way and there was an entire town with people crowded on the cobblestone road.

"Welcome to Diagon Alley," Hagrid said to the amazed twins.


	7. Chapter 5 Diagon Alley Part 1

They stepped through the brick archway. To the right and to the left there were all kinds of interesting stores, cauldron shops, pet shops, and magical bookstores were only some of the more common shops there.

They passed a shop with a crowd of kids with their noses against a display window looking at a broomstick. "The Nimbus 2000," one of them said, "Newest version, fastest ever." they relayed in awe.

"First to Gringotts," Hagrid said, "Need money b'fore anythin' else."

There was a large, elegant looking building centered by all of the others. It was elegant, alright, but it had a stiff, business like atmosphere about it. Still, there was undeniable excitement in the air that Harry and Iris were affected by. It was a white marble building, with white stone steps leading to a bronze archway where the large, oak doors were.

They went up the steps and reached the oak door. The twins both almost froze. Guarding either side of the door, were two goblins- about a head shorter than the twins- each wearing uniforms of white and gold trimming. Their skin had a greenish tinge, and they had long, bony fingers, feet, and nose. They each had a clever face- long and narrow. One of them had a pointed beard.

"Yeh, those are goblins," Hagrid muttered quietly.

The goblins gave them all stiff, chilling looks before bowing and letting them in. Inside was an entrance room, made of more white marble. In front of them, was a smaller, silver pair of doors. On the door, in a large oak frame, were what looked like a poem of some sort:

_Enter, stranger, but take heed_

_Of what awaits the sin of greed,_

_For those who take, but do not earn, _

_Must pay most dearly in their turn._

_So if you seek beneath our floors_

_A treasure that was never yours, _

_Thief, you have been warned, beware_

_Of finding more than treasure there._

More than treasure, like dragons and security charms, Harry thought to himself. They went through the silver doors. There was a large, marble room with hundreds of goblins behind oak counters. They worked, scribbling in large books, weighed precious stones, and all other things for the witches and wizards across their counters.

Behind the goblins working at the counters, were many other oak doors. There were other goblins that were showing people in and out of those.

The three of them stood in line until one of the counters opened up. When it did, they walked up to it. The goblin working there had a sour look on his face, and a wrinkled nose. He glanced up only slightly at the new customers.

"Yeh, hi." Hagrid said, obviously trying to be friendly, "We'd like to take money out of Mr. Harry Potter's and Miss Iris Potter's safe."

"Then you have a key, _sir_." The goblin said in obvious boredom and attitude.

"It's in here somewhere," Hagrid murmured as he began going through his coat's pockets. Not finding it, he began taking things out of his pockets. Pieces of crumpled parchment, old quill pens, old moldy dog biscuits soon littered the surface. The goblin wrinkled his nose even more at the dog biscuits. "Ah, here it is!" Hagrid said in triumph taking out a little, golden key.

The goblin took the key and examined it closely.

"Well, _seems _to be in order," the goblin said.

"Also," Hagrid said taking out a piece of parchment and handing it to the goblin, "Ah've got a letter here from Professor Dumbledore," He puffed out his chest importantly, "It's about the You-Know-What in vault 713."

The goblin held the letter close to his wrinkled nose and examined it also.

"I see," the goblin said with increased interest, "I'll have Griphook take you to both vaults. Griphook!" he shouted as he clapped his hands as a summoning.

As Hagrid crammed the junk back into his pockets, another goblin came over to them. "This way," it said in a low, scratchy voice.

They went through one of the doors. Instead of more marble, it was a large, cavernous tunnel, lit only by flame torches along the wall. Right in front of them was a steep drop. It was too dark to see the bottom of it. Also in front of them was a track of some sort. Griphook waved his hand, and a cart came riding bumpily along the track and stopped directly in front of them. It looked like a metal, old-fashioned mining cart. It looked as though it could hold about three, maybe four, people.

Though with slight trouble, they all managed to cram into the cart. As soon as they did, it went speeding off along the track. Harry and Iris had to hold onto the sides because it was going so fast. It must've been automatic, because Griphook wasn't steering.

First, they went down a large, steep, hill. Wind blasted against their faces and dried their eyes. Iris' hair kept blowing into Harry's face. "Sorry!" Iris shouted and took one of her hands off the side of the cart to hold her hair down.

They eventually leveled off. On either side of them, were ledges in front of vaults. The vaults were large tarnished metal doors with a copper plate on the right side of each of them, indicating the number. It was like an elaborate maze, you'd never be able to navigate without a map; even with a map you'd probably have difficulty. The twins tried, at first, to memorize the route- right, right, left, right, left, left, left, right- but soon gave up on that- this place was huge!

As they went, the lighting became dimmer, and the metal became more and more tarnished. The stalagmites and stalactites became longer and more common. Curiosity was itching at Harry.

"Hagrid!" Harry shouted. "What's in vault 713?"

"Can' tell ya that!" Hagrid shouted over the wind, "Important secret, Dumbledore's trusted me with it; more than my job's worth ta tell ya that!" he stopped abruptly, "An' don't talk ta me right now, ah think ah'm gonna be sick!" he _did _look several shades too green. "Can we maybe go a little slower?" Hagrid managed to shout to Griphook.

"One speed only!" Griphook shouted.

Finally, they stopped at a vault. They all climbed out of the cart. Hagrid leaned over the ledge. He turned back to them and wiped his mouth.

Griphook put the key into the slot. The tarnished door moved out of the way and dust engulfed them. When it cleared away, Harry and Iris' eyes widened. In the vault were mounds of gold, silver, and bronze coins. Along with the coins, were other valuables- precious stones, pictures, that sort of thing.

Hagrid handed them each a blue leather bag. "Okay, the gold coins are called Galleons," he explained, "the silver coins are Sickles, an' the bronze ones are Knuts. Seventeen Sickles to a Galleon, and twenty-nine Knuts to a Sickle."

They shoved handfuls of coins into the blue bags.

Reluctantly, they all climbed back into the cart. "Vault 713, please," Hagrid said tiredly. They shot off again along the track. They went even farther into the cavern.

The twins wondered what this mysterious object in vault 713 was. Something valuable or important, probably.

They came to an abrupt stop at an ancient-looking vault. They climbed out of the metal cart onto a rock ledge. Iris looked over the side curiously. Her feet were near the edge at a safe distance, or so she thought. She shifted her weight to one foot and-

CRACK

Harry, Hagrid, and even the goblin snapped around. The rock below Iris' feet cracked and gave out. She gave a shout as she began to fall. Harry, automatically, ran toward her and grabbed her arm. Unfortunately, instead of being able to pull Iris out, Harry felt the rock below him also give out.

Then, they felt something strong grip them both on the scruff of their necks. They felt themselves being lifted and put back onto sturdy ground. Hagrid let them go as they gathered their senses back.

"Thanks, Hagrid," Harry breathed.

They, staying far away from the edge, looked down at the seemingly bottomless cavern. Harry kicked a baseball sized rock over the edge. It fell, down, down, down. They waited for the sound of it hitting the bottom. Finally, they heard a very faint echoing thud.

"I wonder what's down there." Iris mumbled.

"Probably rocks," Harry said absentmindedly, "very sharp rocks."

They looked at each other and shuddered. If they had fallen...

"_Thank you, _Hagrid." Iris repeated.

"Jus' be careful," Hagrid told them, "The rock o'round here is ancient."

The goblin stared at them both for a few seconds and then went back to work as though nothing had happened.

They noticed that this vault, unlike the other ones, had no keyhole. The twins were about to find out why. The goblin spoke to them in a droning voice, "If anyone else besides a Gringotts Goblin tried this, they'd be sucked in and trapped in there." He ran one of his long, bony fingers along the metal door of the vault. Almost immediately, the metal door melted away.

A cloud of green smoke flew out, eager to escape the confines of the vault. They all waited for the smoke to clear, the twins leaned in eagerly, expecting something spectacular or exceptional to be under such high security. But, as the smoke cleared, they saw that the moldy vault held nothing but a small, paper wrapped package no bigger than Harry's fist. They watched, confused, as Hagrid carefully picked up the package and tucked it away deep inside his coat.

While Harry was trying to understand this, Iris turned to the goblin curiously, though slightly timidly, "How often do you check to see if someone's inside?"

The goblin shrugged, "About every ten years."

This only increased their puzzlement, as well as disturbed them somewhat. Harry looked around at the moldy, cavernous vault. No one would be able to survive in here for that long, he thought. He took a slight step away from it.

"Alrigh'" Hagrid said, "Let's get back in this infernal thin' an' go get yer stuff."

And so, they climbed back into the rusty cart and sped off.

They stepped outside of the bank and had to squint against the bright sunlight. Now that they had a large sack full of gold, they were eager to buy their things, not to mention explore this new world.

"We should prob'ly get yer wands first." Hagrid said.

The twins followed him through the crowded streets. They stopped in front of an old, slightly run down looking shop sandwiched between two others. Above the door was a sign in peeling gold letters:

Ollivander's:

Makers of Fine Wands since 382 B.C.

Through the dusty window, they could see a faded purple cushion meant as display. A wooden, dust covered wand lay on that cushion.

Hagrid led them through the door of the shop. They heard the tinkle of a bell as they entered the small shop. The room was badly lit. The wallpaper was peeling off, and a large layer of dust covered almost every surface, including the dark purple carpet. There were three wooden chairs pushed off to the side of the room. All around the room were shelves. In those shelves, were what resembled shoe boxes, only wooden, thinner, and longer. Directly across from the entrance door was the wooden counter, behind that was a hallway with walls of even more shelves and boxes.

The twins stood their almost awkwardly while Hagrid sat down in one of the wooden chairs, somehow.

The air around them seemed to spark with some sort of unknown magic.

"Good day." came a sudden, soft voice from the counter. They all jumped and the chair Hagrid had managed to fit into snapped.

An old man walked from behind the counter. He had wide, large, shining pale eyes. Shivers ran down their spines as they looked into them.

"Um," Harry said awkwardly, "yeah, hi."

"Yes, yes," Mr. Ollivander muttered, his eyes fixed on Harry's scar, "Mr. Potter, I'd known I'd be seeing you soon," Iris was starting to get bothered that everyone seemed to be ignoring her, "Your parents came here to buy their wands. Your mother, I remember, owned a willow wand, ten and a quarter inches long. Nice for casting charms." This guy was really starting to creep the twins out, Harry more than Iris.

"And your father," Ollivander continued walking close to Harry, his voice rasping, "rather favored an eleven inch mahogany. Excellent for transfiguration." he chuckled to himself, "Well, I say he favored it, but, rather, it's the wand that chooses the wizard"

At this point, Ollivander was right in front of Harry. Harry, extremely uncomfortable, took a slight step backward. That snapped him a bit out of it. He tore his pale eyes away from Harry's scar.

"or witch." Ollivander continued turning his attention to Iris for the first time. "Forgive me, I haven't paid you any mind." Iris just shrugged it off. He turned to look at Hagrid, "And Rubeus Hagrid, if I remember correctly you had a sixteen inches oak, right?"

"Er, yessir, ah believe so," Hagrid said getting shifty.

"Yes," Ollivander said, observing the large man, "though, uh, I imagine they must have snapped it in half when you were expelled."

"Ah, yes they did. But, uh, ah kept the pieces."

Ollivander eyed him suspiciously, "But, _you didn't use them, _did you?"

"Ah, no sir," Hagrid stuttered nervously, "O' course not." he gripped his pink umbrella and fiddled with it.

"Hmm," Ollivander muttered.

Harry glanced at Iris, who glanced back. Now why did they get the feeling that they knew what had happened to those wand pieces. They probably ended up as that pink umbrella or something.

Ollivander turned to the red haired girl. "Well, let's start with you." He shuffled over to her and took a measuring tape out of his pocket. "Now, which is your wand arm?"

"Well, um," Iris stumbled, "I'm right handed."

The old man measured the length of her arm, her elbow to her wrist and then shuffled off to one of the shelves. Though, he left the measuring tape behind, and it, Harry speculated, kept on measuring, magically, apparently. It kept measuring her height, her hair length, and then the length between her nostrils. Harry couldn't help but laugh slightly.

"Er," Iris said, trying to get the wand-maker's attention.

Going through the shelves, he turned around to see what was going on and then he noticed the tape measure. "Oh, yes, my apologies," he addressed to Iris, he flicked his hand and, immediately, the tape measure ceased and obediently returned to him. He put it back into the pocket of his cloak.

Harry smirked at his sister. She turned red and whispered to him, "It's not funny," she protested half-heartedly.

Ollivander shuffled back over to her with a wooden box in his hand. He lifted the lid and took out the wooden object and handed it to her. "This may do it. Ten inches, made of willow, the core is dragon heartstring."

She held it in her hand, unsure as of what to do. Eventually, Ollivander picked up on this, "Well, just wave it around."

Feeling rather silly, she waved it around. There was a blue vase over by the window that shattered. Ollivander snatched the wand out of her hand immediately, "Nope, that's not it," and returned to the shelf to get another one. While he did Iris stood there, an embarrassed blush burning at her face. This time, Harry sat down, really trying to not laugh out loud enough to embarrass Iris too much more.

Ollivander kept bringin out wands, and Iris, not really knowing what to look for, just kept waving them around. The pile of the tried wands grew slightly until Ollivander came over with another one, "Okay, now, I'm quite sure this'll do the trick," the old man seemed absolutely joyful to be doing this. "Eight and a half inches, ebony and unicorn hair. Good for a wide range of spells."

She swished it around. Instead of causing a disaster or not doing anything- like the other ones did- it burst out a lovely white mist. Ollivander smiled while Hagrid cheered and clapped, Harry joined along. Iris gripped her fingers around her new wand.

"How much?" she asked Ollivander.

"Five Galleons," he said. She counted out the coins and handed them to the old man.

Still carrying her new wand, she went over and sat down in the last chair. She turned to her twin brother, "Well," she said, motioning her arms, "Go on."

Harry got up out of his chair and walked over to Ollivander. "I'm right handed." he told him.

So, Ollivander started his measurements and Harry went into the motion of trying out wands. He tried out even more wands then Iris did, by at least double. Ollivander, rather than getting annoyed, got more and more happy and youthful with every wand. Though, at some point, after piles of wands, Ollivander glanced at Harry, an odd look on his face. "Curious," he said peering at him, "I haven't had this tricky a customer since-" he cut off and then stared at Harry's scar again. "Come with me, Mr. Potter. I believe I know which wand is yours."

He beckoned for Harry to follow him to behind the counter into the hallway. He did and, there, Ollivander picked out a box. Somehow, it seemed different then the others as he removed it from its casing. "Did you know, Mr. Potter, that no two Ollivander's wands are alike? Each one is different, just as each witch or wizard is different." He showed Harry the magical object, "This wand is quite special. There exists a powerful phoenix that only gave two feathers for wand-making. And if- well, try it out."

Harry took the wand. As his hand wrapped around the polished would, he could've sworn he felt a warmth spread throughout his finger-tips. He looked at Ollivander for a moment and then waved this wand. He waved it above him and brought it down through the air as it released two intense bands of light- one scarlet and gold, the other, green and silver- intertwining through the air.

Even as the lights faded off, Ollivander didn't shift his gaze. "One feather dwells as the core of your new wand. The other," he looked straight into Harry's eyes, piercing him, "resides in the wand that belongs to the person that gave you that scar." he pointed at Harry's lightening bolt-shaped scar on his forehead. "_He _did many great things- _terrible_, but great. I can be sure, Mr. Potter, that we can also expect great things from you."

Harry paid six Galleons for his wand, and left. Both Iris and Hagrid were asking what had happened, and Harry didn't exactly know how to answer.

"Come on," Iris begged, "Just tell us."

"I don't even know what he meant." Harry explained.

"Maybe we can help, it can' hurt." Hagrid reasoned.

"Alright," Harry thought for a minute, "Ollivander said something about my wand being brothers, or something, with another wand. That wand belongs to the person who gave me my scar, and he did horrible things." Harry noticed how Hagrid shifted uncomfortably, "How _did_ I get my scar?" Harry asked him.

"Well," Hagrid fiddled, "ah know ah should o' told yeh earlier-"

"Wait," Iris said, "The Dursleys said that we were in a car crash."

Hagrid looked angry, "Car crash," he muttered viciously, he then addressed the twins, "That was just another bit o' rubbish those muggles came up with."

"What do you mean?"

"Yer parents didn' die in o' car crash." Hagrid explained darkly, "they were murdered."

"WHAT?"

"Yeah, but this idn't the best place fer it." he looked over to an empty-looking alley, "Let's go o'er there."

They walked over there, where Hagrid launched into his explanation, "There was a horrible wizard, a very evil one. Now, they say that he started alrigh', but sometime along he just went bad, as bad as yeh can get."

"Who was he?" Iris asked.

"His name was-" he pulled a face, as though it hurt him to say it, "Vol- Voldemort- _don't make me say it again._"

"What's wrong with the name?" Harry asked.

"It's prob'ly just because it belongs to _him _that makes it so terrible. You'll find tha' people will react negatively, even get offended, if yeh say it." he told them, "yeh prob'ly should just do what almost everyone else does. When yeh talk about him, call him You-Know-Who." his face darkened, "the wrong sort norm'ly call him the Dark Lord."

Harry and Iris glanced at each other- what did this have to do with anything?

Hagrid continued his explanation, "Now, these were dark times. Evil and traitors everywhere, didn' know who ta' trust.

"It was on Halloween, years ago, when yeh both were only one, that yer parents were murdered. See, for some unknown reason, You-Know-Who wanted to kill yeh both. He prob'ly just got used to killin', he _did _start o' war, after all.

"So, that Halloween, he- he came to yer house an," he stopped, as though it was also hard for him to say, "They say that he killed yer dad first- he was just tryin' to protect his family. Then- then he killed yer mum, an' she was tryin' to protect you two.

"An' then something odd happened. He tried to kill yeh, too, Harry. _Tried, _but for some reason he couldn'. He fired a killin' curse at yeh, but somehow, _somehow, _it rebounded on You-Know-Who. Yeh got yer scar that night, from the curse."

"What- what happened to him?"

Hagrid let mystery leak into his tone, "No one knows. Some say he died. I don' believe it, he wasn' human enough to die. Ah bet he's still out there, very weak, clutching onto to life in hopes of bein' restored to what he once was. But, that night, he was defeated by a one year old. You, Harry."

Harry just stared, trying to take it in.

"News of yer triumph spread like wildfire. Yeh became famous, a legend! But, also a mystery to a great many. Now, everyone recognizes yeh because o' yer scar."

Harry suddenly remembered something he never did before. He remembered a cold, bone chilling laughter, a blinding flash of green light, a searing pain across his forehead, a blood-curdling scream...

Harry squeezed his eyes shut, being bombarded with memories and sounds and images, terrifying, although unclear.

He snapped out of it as he felt someone's hand on his shoulder.

"Harry," Iris asked, concerned, "Are you okay?"

Harry tried to shake it off, "Yeah, I'm fine," he lied, he turned to Hagrid, who was apparently finished, "What should we get next?"

"Er..." Hagrid thought about it, "Migh' be a good idea to get yer books."

They found a bookshop where Hagrid said sold their textbooks, as well as most other kinds. They entered the shop. There were shelves and shelves of books. Close to the door, was a curving staircase leading up to a second story of shelves and shelves of even more books.

Iris' emerald eyes widened and sparkled like diamonds. Harry laughed a bit. She was a major bookworm. Even at the Dursleys she had read books as though she had this incurable thirst for knowledge, which she did.

While they were there, Hagrid caught Harry engrossed in a book 'simply' titled, _Curses and Counter-curses (Bewitch Your Friends and Befuddle Your Enemies with the Latest Revenges: Hair Loss, Jelly-Legs, Tongue-Tying and Much, Much More) _by Professor Vindictus Viridian.

Hagrid looked at the title, "An' why would you want to know that?"

Harry answered without looking up, "I'm trying to find a good hex to use on Dudley."

Hagrid smiled slightly, "Now, ah'm not sayin' that's not a good idea, but yer not allowed to use magic outside of school. Until yeh turn seventeen, anyway." he added as an afterthought, "Even after that, yer not allowed to use it in front of muggles. Keepin' secret an' all."

Harry stopped reading. For a moment he just stood their until he put the book back, "Darn." he muttered. Hagrid gave a great laugh.

Many, many book purchases later, they left the bookshop. Both of the twins carried a large bag of textbooks. Iris carried an extra pile in her arms; it was only some of the books she had bought for herself. Somehow, she had balanced an open book on top of the pile. _Hogwarts, a History _by Bathilda Bagshot was the book that she was immersed in.

"It's _very _fascinating," Iris said excitedly, "I never knew that a school could have such marvelous features. I think I'm going to like it. Did you know, the ceiling of the Great Hall is bewitched to look like the outside sky? Also, there's some legend of a secret hall known as the Chamber of Secrets. It's said-"

"Okay, Iris!" Harry said holding up his hands to stop her. "Honestly, how do you do that?"

"Do what?"

"You can read all those books and keep all that information. How can you do that?" Harry asked her.

Iris shrugged, "I don't know."

"Bookworm," he teased jokingly.

She pulled a mock-offended look, "I don't know why you're complaining. I wasn't the one getting failing grades in primary school."

"Hey," Harry said, protesting, "Those teachers had it in for me. And you, too, for that matter."

"Well, Harry," Hagrid said, "She's got o' point. Books really do teach yeh things. Iris, ah think yeh got that from yer mother."

Iris shrugged, from what she had heard so far, she was a great deal like her mother. She wondered if she got anything from her dad.

"Hm," Hagrid said thoughtfully, "Let's see, ah don' think ah've got yeh both a birthday present yet."

Simultaneously, blushes crept up to the twins' cheeks. "Hagrid-" Iris began.

"-you don't have to." Harry finished.

Hagrid chortled, "Nonsense. Tell yeh what, ah'll get yeh both an owl; somethin' yeh both can share."

They went into an owl emporium. In there, it smelled strongly of owl poop. There were owl screeches ringing around the building. All kinds of owls were in cages all around them, including screech owls, barn owls, and a few great horned owls. Hagrid had told them to pick out one, so they searched the rows for the one that they wanted.

As Harry went down his row, he noticed how all of the owls were making a racket, flapping around and screeching as though restless. When he got to the end of the row, he noticed that one of the owls was more calm then the rest.

It was a snowy owl, white with small black spots. It's amber eyes flashed toward Harry for a second, and it hooted softly. Harry glanced at the tag tied around one of the bars of the cage. SNOWY OWL, FEMALE.

"Iris!" Harry called.

Iris walked over to him, "Have you found one? All the ones I've seen are rather... _energetic_." she noticed the snowy owl. "Aw," she also glanced at the tag, "she's beautiful."

She reached through the bars and petted the owl. She stroked the owl's feathers. The snowy owl turned towards her and nipped at the girl's fingers affectionately.

"This one then?" Harry asked, peering into the cage.

"Yeah," his sister said.

Not ten minutes later, they left the owl emporium. Harry carried the large cage with their new owl inside, sleeping. The twins couldn't stop spluttering their thank yous. Hagrid just patted them on the back saying, "It was nothin'. Ah don' imagine you've had any good presents from the Dursleys."


	8. Chapter 6 Diagon Alley Part 2

They went all over Diagon Alley, getting their remaining items. Finally,

"An' the last thin' that we need ta' get are yer robes." Hagrid informed them. They went into Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions.

They walked into the shop when Hagrid turned to them, "Hey listen', ah'm goin' o'er to the Leaky Cauldron fer a bit. Ah'll be back by the time yer done." he left the shop for the Leaky Cauldron.

They set their things down on a table near a waiting chair. A woman, Madam Malkin, dressed in mauve colored robes went over to them, "Hogwarts?" she asked. They both said yes, "I expected as much," she said, smiling, "That's been the lot of our customers lately. I'm fitting up another first year student just right now, in fact."

She led them to a row of stools. On one of the stools, already there, was a boy that looked to be about the twins' age. He was pale boy, as though he didn't go out into the sun much, he had a pointed face, and cold silver gray eyes. His platinum blond hair was slicked back neatly. His clothing suggested that he came from wealth. He had a superior air that was reflected on his face.

Harry and Iris stepped onto the two stools next to the boy. Harry, earlier, in order to avoid all of the attention, had made sure that his hair covered his scar. The boys eyes lazily scanned both of them.

"Hello," the boy said in a droning voice. "Hogwarts, too, I expect."

They both nodded uncertainly.

The boy continued, "My father and mother are getting my books. After this, I think I'm going to look at brooms. I can't believe that first years can't have their own. Though, I'll probably be able to bully father into buying me one." Iris could see his excitement under his cold, hard mask. Harry, on the other hand, was getting the impression that this boy was just another brat like Dudley.

"So," he went on, "Do you have your own brooms?"

"No," Harry answered. Iris was busy studying the boy, intently.

"Do you even play Quidditch at all?" he asked.

"No," they answered in unison.

"You both are twins, I bet," though it wasn't a question, they both nodded. He was starting to get uncomfortable under the girl's gaze. He looked straight at her, and, immediately, she looked away. "Anyway," he continued, "I bet I'll be in Slytherin. My whole family has been, you know. What house do you think you'll be in?"

Both of the twins didn't really know what to say. Slytherin?

The boy kept on going, "Well, I suppose no one knows until they get there. I'd probably just leave if I was in Hufflepuff." the boy's eyes wandered to the window, "I say! Look at that man out there!" he exclaimed, lowering his emotional mask temporarily again.

Harry and Iris looked to the window as well. They saw Hagrid out there, holding up three ice-cream cones.

"Oh, that's Hagrid," Iris said warmly.

"Yes, I've heard of him. He's gamekeeper of Hogwarts. My father says he's practically an animal himself. He lives in a hut near the forest and gets drunk a lot."

Harry couldn't hide his anger, "I think he's brilliant," he shot coldly.

The boy shifted his stance and shrugged, he glanced at the giant man outside again. "Why's he with you both anyway? Where are you parents?" he asked them.

"They're both dead," Harry snapped before Iris could say anything.

The boy's expression faltered slightly, "Oh, I'm sorry," he regained composure momentarily, "they were like us, weren't they?"

"What do you mean?" Iris asked.

"Were they magical?" he clarified.

"Yes, I think so," Iris said uncertainly.

"Why do you want to know?" Harry asked rudely.

"Magical people born from muggle families shouldn't be allowed in the wizarding world. They know nothing about us. Most of them don't even know about Hogwarts until they get their letters," the boy explained. Iris thought he sounded as though he was saying a well-rehearsed line.

Harry and Iris glanced at each other; that sounded a lot like them.

Harry was immensely relieved when Madam Malkin walked over to them and said, "You both are done."

They paid for their new robes. Before she left, Iris turned to the boy. She figured that she should give him the benefit of the doubt. She gave him a small smile and then turned and left.

The boy was stunned- or at least surprised- by the girl. Though, he quickly forgot about her as his parents walked in.

Harry, Iris, and Hagrid walked through the crowd, licking their ice-cream (peanut butter and raspberry). Harry told Hagrid about the boy in Madam Malkin's.

"-and then he was saying something about how muggle-raised people shouldn't be here." Harry finished. Iris just listened, licking her ice-cream as she glanced at the shop signs.

"Sounds like a Malfoy," Hagrid explained gruffly, "Don' listen to those type o' people. See, some rich and pompous people like the Malfoys are under tha' impression that people from all wizard families are superior to those from muggle ones. Most of You-Know-Who's followers were firm believers of that; it was one of the reasons fer tha' war. Well, that an' world domination." He shook his head.

Iris felt her eyebrow lift slightly. It sounded like World War II, in a way. She shook her head as though shaking off the thought.

"But," Harry said, "He also said something about- I think it was Quidditch and Slithering?"

"Quidditch and Slytherin," Hagrid corrected, "Quidditch is a popular wizard sport 'round here usin' flying broomsticks. An' Slytherin is a school house at Hogwarts. There are four- Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, and Slytherin." He added with distaste, "Slytherin's tha' worst house of them. All o' the dark wizards were in Slytherin- You Know Who was."

"Which house were you in?"

"Well," Hagrid told them, "Ah was only at Hogwarts fer three years, 'cause ah was expelled, see. But," he puffed his chest out proudly, "I was in Gryffindor. Most noble house there is- Dumbledore was in it, too."

Harry and Iris tried to ask a question at the same time. They quibbled over who should ask their question first. Finally, Harry asked, "Why were you expelled?"

Hagrid became uncomfortable again. "Jus'... a misunderstandin'."

Iris asked her question, "How do they determine which house you go into?"

Hagrid was glad for the change of subject, "The house they sort you into would match your characteristic. Gryffindor is for the brave," he said proudly, "Ravenclaw is for the smarter ones, Slytherin is for the slyer, meaner folk, and Hufflepuff for those that are loyal. Some people say that the Hufflepuffs are the leftovers and a bunch of dudders, but it's better than Slytherin."

They went around Diagon Alley some more, browsing shops and getting a few knick-knacks.

Eventually, as the sky began to darken, Hagrid told them, "Wow, it's gettin' late. Ah should prob'ly get yeh both back to the Dursleys."

They both followed Hagrid, past the shops, through the brick wall, through the Leaky Cauldron, across the street, past the buildings, and all the way through town. They stopped at a burger restaurant and Hagrid bought them both hamburgers.

All the while, Harry was oddly silent.

"Somethin' botherin' yeh, Harry?" Hagrid asked as they all sat in the plastic chairs.

Harry didn't answer at first. Ever since Hagrid had explained why he was so famous, there was something nagging at him in the back of his mind. Now that he excitement was toning down, he found himself focusing on it.

He was famous for something that happened to him as a baby. Something he barely remembered, much less understood. Still, everyone found him to be this great, admirable person. They all expected him to be something special, something great. But he didn't feel special. He barely knew anything about magic. What if he couldn't learn?

He voiced this to them both.

"I know I'm not one to say much but," Iris told him, "I'm sure you'll learn. We'll both learn."

"Hogwarts is an amazin' place, Harry, yeh'll definitely learn. And yeh'll have the time of yer life there. Most people do, ah certainly did. Still do, actually," said Hagrid.

They took the train again, and before they knew it, they were all standing in front of the run-down shack on the rock out in the sea. The weather was calm, and the night air was salty. The water along the edge of the rock made a jump, spraying them all with salty mist.

"All righ'," Hagrid said, getting something out of his pockets, "Ah hate ta' leave yeh both with these folks but it's Dumbledore's orders." he handed them two pieces of papers that appeared to be train tickets, "These are for the Hogwart's Express. It leaves for Hogwarts on September 1st, 11:00 am exactly. It's on yer ticket if yeh forget. Tell yeh what, if yeh have any problems with the Dursleys, jus' send yer owl- she'll know where to find me- and," he glanced back and forth for humor, "ah'll give em all eh... 'what-for' or somethin'."

That made identical smiles creep onto their faces. He smiled, too, under his tangled beard and patted them both on the shoulders.

They turned to the battered, old door and went inside the run-down shack. They both darted to the dusty window to watch Hagrid leave, only to see that he was already gone.


	9. Chapter 7 Anticipation and Arguments

Disclaimer: This book called Harry Potter, which I like, is not owned by me. Try looking for J.K. Rowling, she wrote it, she owns it. And I think legal rights also belong to Warner Bros.

By the way, for future reference, I have a tendency to- or not- always follow through with what I say I might- or might not- do, in the case of writing. Summarily, I've had nice idle time so I wrote another chapter because I'm having slight writer's block with my other fanfiction. Updates will likely be erratic. Yep.

Go forth, young grasshopper!

* * *

**Anticipation and Arguments**

Needless to say, the Dursleys were less than happy to be around the twins, much less their new "freak" stuff. Still, they were shaken up by Hagrid's appearance just enough to prevent them from throwing the twins- and their stuff- out.

But, they got over it not long after the twins returned to Privet Drive.

Dudley, who still had his pig tail, would run out of the room screaming whenever either of the twins showed up. Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia, on the other hand, would ignore them as if they were there. However, after a while, the twins noticed how their jaws and fists would clench at their appearance- at least with Uncle Vernon.

This behavior was amusing, even an improvement- for a while, that is. It wasn't long before it became almost depressing.

In their room, Harry and Iris had pinned a calendar to their wall; they would cross off the days to September 1st.

"We still haven't named our owl," Iris said as she stroked her through the bars of the owl cage.

Harry was sitting on his bed, fiddling with his shoelaces. He looked up and said, "Do you have any ideas?"

The redhead thought about it for a moment, "What about Hedwig? It was someone I read about in _A History of Magic._"

"Sure, sounds good," he went back to his shoelaces until he realized what exactly she had said, "Iris?" he asked.

She gave a "hm?" to show that she was listening.

"How many of our school books have you read?" he asked slowly.

She shrugged like it wasn't much, "All of them, I think; except for _Standard Book of Spells Grade 1, _which I'm still working on." she glanced at him and started laughing, "Your jaw dropped," she giggled.

Harry realized this and hastily closed his mouth.

"So," Iris inquired, "How many have you read?"

"Uh," Harry murmured uncertainly, "I skimmed through a transfiguration book- at least, I think I did."

She gave him a look before picking up a charms textbook. She tossed it to him, "Read it," she commanded, "Trust me, you'll find it interesting."

She wasn't going to look away until he opened the book. Picking up on this, Harry began thumbing through it. Apparently satisfied, Iris went back to stroking Hedwig.

It was interesting, Harry had to admit. It helped to increase his excitement of going to Hogwarts. He glanced at the calendar to see how much longer they would have to wait. August 31. Tomorrow, that was nice, Harry thought as he went back to his book. Tomorrow. He stopped reading. Tomorrow?

"Tomorrow, Iris!" he suddenly shouted, causing her to jump and Hedwig's feathers to ruffle.

They both just smiled immensely for a while.

"What about the train?" Iris wondered out loud.

Harry's heart sank slightly- would the Dursleys take them? "Iris," he complained, "you ruined it."

"Sorry."

Harry jumped off the bed and grabbed the tickets on the nightstand. "I'll go ask Uncle Vernon."

"Good luck."

He walked down the stairs and into the living room. The three of them were sitting on the couches, watching the news. He cleared his throat to let them know that he was there.

Dudley whipped his head over and scrambled off of the chair and ran- or waddled- out of the room as fast as his fat legs could manage.

Harry just watched, his eyebrows raised slightly. He turned back to Uncle Vernon, who had all of his attention on the TV.

"Erm," Harry said hesitantly, "Uncle Vernon."

His uncle grunted at him.

"Iris and I need to get to King's Cross Station tomorrow morning," he asked nervously, "I was wondering if you could drive us there."

His uncle turned his mean little eyes to his nephew. "The train? The magic carpets have all gotten puncture's, have they?" he scoffed.

Harry felt a pang of anger, "So will you take us?" he asked, trying to sound polite.

Uncle Vernon grumbled, "Normally I wouldn't bother but we need to take Dudley to the hospital."

"Why?"

He growled, "We have to get that ruddy tail removed before he goes to Smeltings."

Smeltings is the private school that Uncle Vernon had once gone to and they'd gotten Dudley into, somehow.

"Thank you," Harry said stiffly.

"What platform is it on?" Uncle Vernon added grumpily, "I don't want to have to waste time walking."

Harry took out his ticket and checked, he read it aloud, "I have to take the train from platform nine and three-quarters at 11:00."

Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia turned to stare at him oddly. Uncle Vernon spoke, "Nine and three-quarters- what rubbish is that?"

"That's what is says on my ticket," Harry protested. Still, it was incredibly odd.

"Mad, the lot of you," he growled, "Now get on, I want to watch the news." he turned back to his precious TV.

Harry, stomping slightly went back up the stairs to his room. He heard Aunt Petunia call across the house, "Duddey, sweetie, come back in here. Don't worry, he's gone."

Harry snorted to himself. Tomorrow wouldn't come fast enough.

He got back to his room and he told Iris about it.

"You wouldn't happened to have read about it, would you?" he asked his twin.

"Platform nine and three-quarters? I think it was mentioned in _Hogwarts, a History. _It's a hidden platform between platforms nine and ten."

"And how do we get there?" he asked.

"I don't know. They didn't mention that." she told him. She glanced at the clock, "We should probably get to bed soon. We _do _have to leave tomorrow."

* * *

Harry opened his eyes for what must have been the third time. He looked at the glowing numbers on the nightstand- 4:32 am. He stared up at the ceiling. He just couldn't get to sleep- for nervousness, for excitement- he didn't know why. He was tired, but he couldn't sleep, and at that moment he was pretty well awake.

"Iris, are you awake?" he called.

He heard rustling from across the room, "Not anymore," he heard a sleepy voice say.

"Sorry," he apologized.

"It's alright, I was waking up anyway," she said. "I keep worrying that I forgot something."

"What do you mean?"

He heard her sigh tiredly, "Please tell me you have your trunk packed," a sudden scrambling from the opposite side of the room told her that he didn't.

She sighed again as she threw her blankets off of her. "Turn on the lamp, I'll help you."

Harry turned on the lamp and pulled out some clothes from an old dresser, "It's not that I forgot," he explained, "I started packing," he threw a bundle of clothes into the trunk that his sister just opened for him, "but in the middle of it, I think Aunt Petunia had me do some chores," he grabbed some books and threw them in, too, "and I never got back to it."

They both shoved the items into the trunk, squishing them in so they could fit. A while later, they observed their work.

Everything was in, technically, but it all looked like it was just thrown and squished in- and it was, obviously- and things were spilling over the sides and were piled over the brim. The packing part was over, they just had to close the lid.

They threw both of their weight on the lid, but it didn't quite close enough to lock. They rearranged things and tucked everything in. They tried it again, and it still wouldn't close. They opened it back up and took out the clothes that Harry was probably not going to ever wear at Hogwarts. They found themselves throwing their weight against the lid again.

"You know, there's a shrinking charm that would help so much right now," Iris commented pushing down on the stubborn lid.

"Oh yeah?" Harry panted, "Why don't we use it then?"

They didn't talk until they pushed down on the lid again. Harry reached for the lock and they both relaxed with the sound of a click.

"Because," she said as they both sat down on the trunk, "I'm not entirely sure how to use it. Also, I don't know whether or not we'd be prohibited from using magic at home yet."

Harry briefly looked around at the small room that they had to share, "You call this home?" he thought out loud.

"You know what I mean."

"Anyway," Harry said, "We'd probably learn about that spell in charms, wouldn't we?"

Iris shrugged, "Probably."

"Is that the subject that one man taught- I can't remember his name- the one from the Leaky Cauldron?"

"Quirrell?"

"Yeah, that's it."

Iris's eyes rolled up in thought, "I think he's teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts," she said. She fiddled with her hands, absentmindedly, thinking about something, "Do you ever get a bad feeling about someone?" she asked eventually.

"Well, yeah," he said, peering at his sister, "Doesn't everyone?"

"I guess, but," she considered holding her tongue but thought better of it, "there's something I don't like about Quirrell."

Harry feigned shock, "Iris doesn't like someone, that's something to be worried about."

It's true, it was her policy to acknowledge that everyone had some good inside. It was also sometimes her falling, or at least something that others could- and sometimes would- take advantage of.

"I'm serious, Harry," she said, "And besides, I didn't say I didn't like _him_, I said that there was something _about him _that I didn't like."

"Well, he did sort of ignored you," Harry commented.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"I was just saying, it wasn't supposed to _mean _anything," he tried to defend.

"Then why bring it up?" she said, her voice raising slightly.

They heard a snort from another part of the house. They returned their voices to almost a whisper.

"Look, I'm going back to bed," she got up and went back over to her mattress.

"I'm sorry," Harry admitted, "It's not as though I like the fame that I have."

"Yeah, I know," she said and pulled a smile towards him, showing him that it was alright.

They both went back to their own beds to wait it out- or sleep, if they were lucky- until the morning.

But meanwhile-

_"You have failed me!" _was a hissing voice.

"My lord, I'm sorry, I tried," was a begging, terrified voice.

_"Such a simple task. I would've thought even you would have been able-"_

The smaller, terrified voice plucked up the courage to defend himself, "My lord, it was hardly simple. Gringotts-"

_"SILENCE!" _the hissing voice screamed, "_You dare interrupt me?"_

"My lord, I'm sorry," the terrified voice begged again, almost sobbing.

_"Disobedience, disrespect, and incompetence," _the voice hissed, _"Must you force me to punish you?"_

"No!" the timid voice yelled, horrified, "My lord please, I will make it up, I will prove myself-"

_"Enough! Your voice gives me a headache. I shall deal with your punishment shortly. First, I must know the whereabouts of Harry Potter."_

"Harry Potter, my lord?"

_"Yes, Harry Potter, fool! You informed me you ran into him and his brat of a sister at Diagon Alley."_

"Yes sir, yes," the voice explained, happy that his guaranteed agony would not be immediate, "The boy was with Hagrid. He mentioned that they were there to buy school supplies."

_"Yes, I see. He must be starting Hogwarts soon. Curses!"_

"My lord?"

_"With _him _there, the old fool will likely improve his guard." _the hissing voice paused in thought, considering something, _"But, then again,"_

"Yes?"

_"Did you say Hagrid was there?"_

"Yes, sir."

_"Dumbledore must have sent his pet to fetch it. He must've gotten it not long before you arrived- FOOL!"_

"I'm sorry, my lord, I'm sorry," the terrified voice begged.

_"SILENCE, you twittering buffoon! Had I been able to kill you long ago, I most certainly would have." _the source of the hissing voice continued in thought, while the terrified one was blubbering apologies and begging for forgiveness. But the source of the hissing paid no mind to the blabbering fool.

_"Despite your _idiotic blunder, _this may be for the better."_

The blabbering stopped, because of the source's possible glimmering of hope.

_"Don't you see? They will both be at Hogwarts- the location of the key to my return to power, and the one that I seek revenge upon. You will be at Hogwarts, posing as an _innocent _teacher."_

"Yes- yes, my lord, I do see."

_"Such an important task this will be."_

"Yes, yes, my lord."

_"Something I could not possibly trust you to complete, at least, without me there to constantly monitor you."_

"My, lord, I don't believe I understand-"

_"Oh, but you will. You most certainly will."_

A sudden, blood-curdling scream rang out through the night.

* * *

Review! And please take poll on profile, would be great!


	10. Chapter 8 The Platform Situation

Disclaimer: I do not, have never, and will never own the most awesome fantasy novel that started out as a children's book; also known as Harry Potter, owned by J.K. Rowling.

Awesome! When I posted the last chapter it got over 100 hits, that's a first for me! Now, the number of hits are a lot larger. I will assume it has to do with the number of words, as most people- myself included- search for the fan fictions with more words. Go figure.

At any rate, the majority of you all just skipped over that last bit. No matter, not entirely important.

Read and enjoy!

**The Platform Nine and Three Quarters Situation**

* * *

The long awaited day finally came. To say in the least, it didn't start entirely well. Both of the twins overslept slightly, and once they finally were able to wake up, they were both very slow and drowsy, much to the Dursley's disdain.

The Dursley's seemed to be greatly warming to the fact that the Potters weren't going to be there for another year. The Dursleys were eating their breakfast- a hearty amount of eggs, pancakes, bacon, and toast- when the twins walked into the kitchen.

"And what do you think you're doing?" Uncle Vernon said nastily. It would have been intimidating, if his mouth hadn't been full of semi-chewed food and he ended up losing about half of it. Then, it just looked plain ridiculous.

Harry pointed to the loaf of bread sitting on the counter, "Probably going to get breakfast, why?"

"No, you most certainly are not," Uncle Vernon growled at them, "I'm sure you'll have _plenty _of food where _you're _going." For some reason- at the moment, unknown to the twins- he laughed to himself slightly as he said that. His family copied him uncertainly.

Harry glared at them, Iris just led him out of the kitchen, "Alright, come on, Harry, let's go."

He barely waited until they got to the hallway of their room before he started to rant, "He's finally gone mad! Is he trying to starve us?!"

"Don't worry, we'll grab something on the way out," she just said.

There was scrambling around for a while, before everyone got everything together, everything was in the car, and they were all ready to leave.

Before they went out for the last time, the twins snuck into the kitchen, grabbed a slice of bread each, and wolfed it down. They ran out to the car before the Dursleys could get suspicious.

As they sat in the car, on their way to Kings Cross Station, all of the Dursleys seemed to be acted strangely. Uncle Vernon seemed unusually happy about something, he would chuckle to himself every once in a while for no apparent reason. Aunt Petunia would keep shifting in her seat, and she kept looking at her whale of a husband, as though she wanted to say something, but never did. Dudley was in the backseat, taking up almost half of the space, along with the twins. He was turning green, either because he was in terrifying proximity with Harry and Iris, or he was nervous about his upcoming surgery.

Once they arrived at King's Cross Station, Harry and Iris instantly got out of the car, eager to get away from their oddly acting relatives. They struggled getting their trunks out of the trunk of the car, because of their weight.

As he pulled out of the parking lot, Uncle Vernon rolled down the window and shouted, "Have a good term!" before he started laughing maniacally as the tires screeched and the car raced away.

Harry stared and shook his head, "I don't get it," he stated.

"I think I do," his sister commented, "The platform nine and three quarters situation, he probably thinks it's a ruse."

"I'm starting to think so, myself," he mumbled.

She gave her brother a look and said, "Come on."

They wandered around the station for a while- they'd never been there before- just trying to find platforms nine and ten. They found it as the clock read 10:46.

"Now what?"

"Well, we can't be the only one's getting through," she tried to reason.

They stood there, looking around for someone who looked as though they would be trying to get to the platform as well. Harry saw a large, bright red-haired family scrambling towards the barrier between platforms nine and ten.

"Alright, we don't want to be late now," a plump, red-haired woman who looked to be the others' mother.

Following her was a no-nonsense-looking red-haired boy wearing thick, rectangular glasses, two prankster-looking red-haired boys that must've been twins, as they looked _exactly _alike, a nervous-looking, red-haired boy, and a younger, red-haired, slightly teary-eyed looking girl. The children all had trunks, ones that were very similar to the Potter twins'. The boy wearing the thick glasses even had an owl.

"Packed with muggles, of course," the kind-faced woman said again.

"That's definitely a wizard family," Harry said, indicated the said red-haired family.

They walked up to the woman.

"Excuse me," Iris spoke up.

"Oh, hello, dears. Not sure how to get on the platform?" she said knowingly.

They both nodded simultaneously.

"You're probably new then," she put a hand on the youngest boy's shoulder, "Ron, my youngest son, is new, too."

"Hello," the red-haired girl spoke up from her mother's side.

"It's simple, really. You just go through the barrier between the ninth and tenth platform. You need to be sure not to be afraid of crashing into it," she explained.

"It helps-" started one of the red-haired twins.

"-to take it at a run," the other red-haired twin finished gracefully.

"Fred," the mother said to one of the identical twins, "You go through first."

The said twin looked offended, jokingly, "I'm not Fred, I'm George."

"_Fred_," the mother reprimanded.

"Ahh, how'd-" the one indicated as Fred began.

"-you know?" the one that must've been George finished.

"You always do that!" their mother said, "Now, get along, Fred."

Fred went in front of the platform barrier. He turned back to his mother, "What if I told you that I was George posing as Fred posing as George posing as Fred?"

His mother tilted her head and gave him a look, "Fred, go_._"

"Yes, mum," and he ran through the barrier.

The Potter twins saw them go right through the barrier, anticipating a crash, but saw him run right through the barrier, as though it wasn't there.

"Now George," the mother said. He opened his mouth to say something, but his mother stopped him, "And don't say you're Fred."

"But it works with everyone else," George sighed.

"Not with you're mother," his mother said firmly.

"Sometimes," he muttered as he, too, disappeared through the barrier.

"Alright now," the woman said to the Potter twins, "How about one of you go on next?"

Harry advanced first, "I'll go," he volunteered.

He wheeled his way in front of the barrier.

"Oh," the young girl sighed, "I _do _wish I could go, too."

"Don't worry, Ginny," said the one named Ron, "We'll send you loads of letters."

"Fred and George had better not send that toilet seat they were going on about," the mother said, "Honestly, telling them not to blow up a toilet just gives them more ideas. You simply cannot control those boys."

"But, they _are _funny," Ron said simply.

Harry took a deep breath and jogged towards the barrier. He soon broke into a run. He squeezed his eyes shut as he went through the brick wall.

"You're next, dear," the woman said to Iris.

She, too, went towards the barrier. She started out in a run towards the barrier. She couldn't help but flinch slightly as she passed through the barrier.

The woman and her daughter followed behind her.

They all found themselves on a bright, grand platform. Looking behind them, towards the barrier they just went through, they saw a sign that said in large writing "Platform 9 ¾."

On the track was a large, black a scarlet steam-engine. On it, written in bright yellow letters was "Hogwarts Express."

The large, old-style clock showed 10:54.

"Come on, let's go find a seat," Harry said to his twin.

They heard the woman say, "Alright, now, is everyone here? Percy, Fred, George, Ron, Ginny. Good. Now, here are you sandwiches. And you two had better behave yourselves. Do not blow up that toilet-"

"But, mum-" said one of the twins

"-Ginny would absolutely love-" continued the other

"-to get a _special __**Hogwarts**_toilet seat-"

"-you know, just to tell her that we're enjoying ourselves."

"I'm sure a letter will be able to tell her that just fine. At least _try _not to get into trouble," their mother said exasperatingly.

"Mum, we make no promises-"

"-but since we love you-"

"-we will try-"

"No guarantees, though," they said in unison.

She sighed, "I suppose that's the best I'll get."

"Make sure to write," their younger sister begged.

"Of course, Ginny," said the eldest in an adult voice.

The warning whistle blew.

"Oh, go on. Don't be late. And have a good term!"

"Bye!" the youngest cried.

The Potter twins found an empty compartment near the back of the train. They tried to lift each of their trunks, much to both of their unsuccessfulness. They both tried lifting one at a time, which also didn't work out.

"Need a helping hand?" said one of the twins, coming into the compartment.

"Or four?" said the other. They held up their hands as though holding up evidence.

"Yes, thanks," Harry and Iris said at the same time.

"You two are twins, huh?" said one of the red-haired twins. The Potter twins nodded.

"We are, too, could you tell?" the red-haired twins said in perfect unison, grinning identically.

"Fred-" said one, holding out his hand in mock-formality.

"-and George-" said the other, mimicking his twin.

"Weasley. Renown pranksters of Hogwarts," they said simultaneously before they both bowed.

The Potter twins stood there, both amazed and amused.

"Anyway, about this trunk," George said.

"We'll get this side," Fred said, moving towards the trunk.

"And you get that side," George finished.

They all heaved the one trunk before they went onto the other.

"Thanks," Harry repeated, wiping sweat off his forehead, which momentarily revealed and brought attention to his scar.

The Weasley twins both noticed and they went uncharacteristically speechless as they stared.

"You're Harry Potter, aren't you?" said George.

"Um, yeah. Yeah, I am," Harry said uncertainly. He felt like he was never going to get used to it. He fiddled with his hair to make sure that it covered his scar.

"My friend," said Fred, shaking Harry's hand enthusiastically, "Feel free to join us in our mission to bring fun to a _dreadfully serious_ school atmosphere."

"Also," George added, "If you make any enemies, we _do _take requests," he then added as an afterthought, "for a price."

"But for you two, it's free."

They both grinned. The Potter twins couldn't help but join in.

The clock chimed 11:00 and a voice rang throughout the train, "_Last call, all aboard. We will be departing momentarily."_

"Come on, George," said Fred leaving, "Don't want to keep Lee waiting for us."

"He says he's got an acromantula," George explained, slightly boastingly, "He's says he'll show it to us."

"He probably just enlarged a spider he found in the corner," Fred thought out loud.

"Still, wouldn't it just be… rather interesting to see Ron's face if he were to see it crawling around-"

"-on him."

They both gave mischievous laughs and exited.

The Potter twins glanced at each other and sat down. They talked until they felt the train give a lurch, and move forward along the track. As they looked out the window, they saw the Weasley's mother and the youngest girl- Ginny- waving goodbye. The station soon disappeared from the window's view.

"I get the feeling that this is going to be a very interesting year," they both said absentmindedly in unison.

They grinned at each other much like the Weasley twins had.

* * *

Does anyone know of other ways I can say 'simultaneously' or 'at the same time' or 'in unison?' It's really starting to get repetitive, even to me. Sorry if it got annoying to you.

I welcome your input. See that button labeled 'Review this Chapter?' Press it. _Press it._

A poll is up on my website. Please take it at the very least. :)_  
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Also, if you don't like how close it is to canon, I have a simple solution. Do not read it, unless of course, you are like me sometimes and don't have much better to do. At any rate, just don't be nasty ßnot saying that anyone has been, as of yet, of course. Let's keep it that way, shall we? :)

If my author's notes seem sort of strange and starting to contradict or something, in this chapter, at least, it just goes to show what happens when you finish writing a chapter at 3 in the morning. _YAWN. _Beloved caffeine, if only you could be mine. Hm… _Coffee…_

This'll probably get uploaded much later in the day. Yep.


	11. Chapter 9 New Friends

Disclaimer: I still don't own Harry Potter, J.K. Rowling does.

* * *

He walked along the train corridor. It's true, there weren't any empty compartments. _Empty _compartments. Unless he wanted to sit with Percy…

A few spaces ahead, Ron saw his two brothers, Fred and George, walk out of one of the compartments, laughing about something. He heard only part of what they said.

"-it just be… rather interesting to see Ron's face if he were to see it crawling around-" said one of them.

"-on him," said the other.

He walked right up to them.

"Maybe if you hadn't turned that bloody teddy bear into a giant spider when I was- oh, what was it- an infant!" Ron went at them.

"Well, in our defense-" said one.

"-it was _accidental_ magic," said the other.

Ron glanced into the compartment his brothers had just come out of.

"So, who was in their anyway? Lee Jordan?" he asked.

"No, but we are on our way to see Lee," they said in unison.

"It's Harry Potter-" said one.

"-and his sister-" said the other.

"-dear brother," they said together.

"Really?" Ron said in awe, "Harry Potter's on the train?"

"Indeed-" said one.

"-in fact-" said the other.

"-they were both the ones trying to get on the platform," they said together.

"Also-"

"-did you know-"

"-they're twins, too. Could you tell?" they both chimed.

The train lurched and the warning announcement rang through the hallway.

"Yeah, okay," Ron said, thinking. He could say hello, just to be nice. Maybe even ask about Harry Potter's scar. "I think I'll go say hello to him."

"_Them_, ickle Ronnikens," said one.

"We would find it very discourteous to mention one twin-" said the other

"-and ignore the other," said the first.

Ron just stared at them, "How could anyone not mention you both? You're practically the same person!"

They were suddenly very serious- extremely uncharacteristic for them- as they said, "But they are not."

They both walked off, their strides matching exactly.

Ron thought, made up his mind, and headed towards the door, only to change his mind and walk away, only to change his mind again. It went on like that until he wore a trail in the thin carpet.

Come on, he reprimanded himself, if you're going to say hi, suck it up and say just say hi.

He gathered his courage, took a deep breath, and went into the compartment.

The twins' conversation was interrupted by one of the red-haired boys entering the compartment. He took one look at them and his face blushed with a fair pink.

"Do you mind- I mean, all the other seats are taken and…" he sort of trailed off.

"Please."

He sat down across from the two of them. "I'm Ron, see- Ron Weasley."

"I'm Harry Potter," Harry introduced, "And this is my sister,-"

"Iris Potter," she cut in, smiling slightly.

"_Harry Potter,_" Ron repeated, his face in awe at him, "Do you- do you have that scar?"

"What? Oh, yeah," Harry moved his hair away from his forehead, showing Ron his famous scar.

"Oh, bloody hell," he murmured. He looked at them both again, and then looked away in a sudden wave of embarrassment. "I'm sorry, I'm just acting like some crazy fan," he apologized sincerely, "It's just- you're really famous… Harry," he stumbled, unsure of what to call him.

Iris gave a small laugh, "Oh yeah, we know."

"Look," Harry explained, "I'm just a normal boy."

"That is to say, as normal as could be expected under the circumstances," Iris put in.

"What do you mean?" Ron asked.

"Well, up until about a month ago, we didn't even know magic really existed," Iris said.

"_Really? _But, you're not muggleborns, are you?"

"No, our parents were magical," she explained, "but we've had to live with our muggle relatives since we were, well, young."

"You're lucky to have a large wizarding family," Harry told Ron.

"Oh, not always. Mum is always mothering us and I have loads of siblings," he shrugged.

"You say that like it's a bad thing."

"It's not always _that_ great," Ron just said, feeling sort of odd.

"You have," Iris counted them from her head quickly, "four siblings, then?"

"Actually," Ron corrected, "I have six. Two older brothers that already left Hogwarts."

"_Six?"_

"Yeah," Ron said, "We're a pretty big family. More than we might- well, never mind. I always get hand-me-downs and stuff, see."

"Better than having a fat, spoiled brat for a cousin," Harry commented.

"Or sleeping in a cupboard for 10 years," Iris added.

"A _cupboard?!_" Ronald exclaimed with a slightly disgusted look on his face, "Is that _normal _for muggles?"

"I- I don't think so," Iris tried to answer, "Our cousin sure didn't have to. And we never heard of anyone else that had to."

"That sounds, well," Ron said cautiously, "abusive."

The twins gave a glance at each other. They sure weren't the nicest of people, they knew that, but they had never really thought of their relatives as 'abusive.' At least, in that exact word, anyway.

"I'm sorry," Ron said, quickly.

"No, it's alright," they waved it off.

They continued on the slightly lighter conversation path. Harry and Ron got along well, and it didn't take long for them to consider each other their first, true friend at Hogwarts. Relations between Ron and Iris, on the other hand, were slightly more forced, but friendly enough, for the moment.

The compartment door slide open again.

"Anything off the trolley?" a stout witch in a work uniform asked them. She pushed a cart covered in sweets, all bright and colorful. Most of them were barely recognizable from muggle ones.

"I'm alright," Ron said slightly grimly, briefly holding up a dry, crusty sandwich.

The twins glanced at Ron and each other before going up to the trolley. Not entirely sure what to get, they grabbed some of almost everything. They paid a rather fair amount, but that didn't matter at the moment.

Ron stared at them as they brought back the loot, "You're going to eat all that?" his eyes widened.

Well, they were hungry, but

"Of course not, Ronald," Iris said, she passed him a large pile, "you're going to help."

"You don't have to do that," Ron said in a full-on blush, he added to Iris, "and don't call me Ronald. It sounds like I'm getting told off."

"Oh sure we do," Harry said to his new best friend, "_Ronald."_

The red-haired boy gave a cheeky smile to his new best friend.

Iris held up a box labeled, 'Chocolate Frog.' "Ron, are these real frogs?"

"No, don't worry, they're just chocolate," Ron explained, digging into a pumpkin pasty, "they're bewitched to look and act like real frogs. They come with a famous witch or wizard trading card. A lot of people collect them," he added, "let me know if you get Agrippa."

Harry picked up one of them and opened it. Immediately, a very convincing- for more than one reason- frog-shaped piece of chocolate hopped out of the box. It even gave an indignant "Ribbit," before it started to bound away.

Iris took out her wand, "Immobulus," she muttered. An invisible pulse escaped her wand and it hit the frog- who, in turn, froze.

Ron picked it up and handed it to Harry, "That was wicked," Ron said with a smile.

"I've been wanting to practice it," Iris said as she flushed.

Harry bit into the chocolate frog. As he chewed, he picked up the card tucked inside the package. On the one side was a picture of an old-looking wizard with a long, white-silver beard, half-moon glasses, and midnight blue eyes. He smiled up at Harry.

"It's moving!" Harry exclaimed, surprised.

Ron looked confused, "Well, yeah, they do that."

"In the muggle world, pictures just stay put."

"Really? _Weird."_

Harry looked back to see that the man was gone. Apparently, they could leave their pictures, too. Shaking his head slightly, he read the label, "Albus Dumbledore."

He flipped the card over and read it to himself,

_Albus Dumbledore _

_Currently Headmaster of Hogwarts_

_Considered by many the greatest wizard of modern times, Dumbledore is particularly famous for his defeat of the dark Grindelwald in 1945, for the discovery of the twelve uses of dragon's blood, and his work on alchemy with his partner, Nicolas Flamel, Professor Dumbledore enjoys chamber music and tenpin bowling._

Ron remembered something and took a rat out of his pocket. It limped in it's hand, as he held it up for them to see. It was a pitiful looking thing- tufting gray hair and several bald spots.

"This is Scabbers," Ron explained, "he was Percy's rat, but I ended up with him. Pathetic, huh? All he ever does is sleep and eat."

"How old is he? It could be normal for his age."

"'Bout ten years old, or, that's how long we've had him, but I think he's been like that since we found him," Ron answered.

"That's a long lifespan for a normal rat," Iris commented.

"We've taken good care of him," he glanced at the sleeping creature, "Not that he cares."

The rat in question gave a loud, squeaky snore as it twitched.

"Anyway, my brother told me a spell that he said would turn him yellow, want to see?" Ron asked.

The compartment door opened again. This time there was an 11 year old girl. She had bushy brown hair, large brown eyes, and two buck teeth.

"I'm Hermione Granger, nice to meet you," she said in a fast-paced, almost bossy voice, "a boy lost his toad, his name's Neville. If you see it, could you let him know?" she saw Ron's wand out, "Oh, are you doing magic, let's see it then," she settled herself down next to him to watch.

"Oh, um," Ron mumbled, uncomfortable with the new audience, "Well, alright, then,"

He cleared his throat and recited in a forced-enthusiastic tone,

"_Sunshine, daisies, butter mellow,_

_Turn this stupid, fat rat yellow."_

He whipped his wand around wildly and nothing happened.

"Ron, I don't think that's a real spell," Iris told him. She absentmindedly floated a few empty candy wrappers, practicing another charm.

"Typical," Ron muttered bitterly, blushing harder, "George gave it to me, should've known it was a ruse."

Hermione rolled her eyes. She noticed the floating candy wrappers.

"Hey, you're really good at that!" Hermione said suddenly.

Iris, having been startled a bit, lost her concentration and the candy wrappers flopped down to the floor, "Oh, um, thanks."

"By the way," Hermione said, suddenly friendlier, "I didn't get your names."

"I'm Ron Weasley," Ron said with his mouth full of two different types of candy.

Hermione gave a brief, disgusted look.

"Iris Potter," Iris said.

Hermione gave her a friendly nod.

"Harry Potter," Harry said.

"Really? Harry Potter? Oh, I've read all about you," Hermione got excited, "You're in quite a few books, like _Modern Magical History, The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts-" _it was clear she was going to go off on a long list.

"I am?" Harry just said, partly dumbfounded.

"Yes, Harry," his sister said, "Honestly, you don't even open up a book to read about yourself?"

There was some smirking at that. Harry just gave her a look, which she returned cheekily.

"But my favorite book is _definitely Hogwarts, a History,_" Hermione stated.

Iris got interested at that, "Really? I find it to be a rather good read."

Hermione sat down in the available seat, "Though, there were _quite _a few _obvious _grammar errors," she went on.

"I noticed that," Iris agreed, "Like in that one chapter-"

The boys just stared at the girls. They were just meant to be friends, that's all they could reason.

While the girls conversed over books, and later on to similar topics, the boys talked about Hogwarts.

"So what house do you think you'll be in?" Ron asked.

"I'm not very familiar with them," Harry just said, "You?"

"Well, my whole family's been in Gryffindor, so that's where they all want me to be, and if I don't make it…" Ron said uneasily, "…well, I'd probably never hear the end of it."

"Well, I'm sure they'll still love you," Harry reasoned.

"_Maybe. _Unless I'm in Slytherin," he shuddered, "they're a load of evil gits, all of them."

"Ron," Iris interjected, "that's a bit insensitive, isn't it?"

"How's it insensitive, they are," Ron shot.

"You can't just automatically assume that a person is _'evil,' _just because they're in a certain school house!" she argued.

"Well, which one would you want to get into?" Harry tried to end it.

Iris just shrugged, "I don't know. Whichever one I'm sorted into," she looked to her knew best friend, "What do you think, Hermione?"

"From what _I've _heard," the bushy-haired girl said, "Gryffindor is the best. Dumbledore, himself was in it. But, I suppose, Ravenclaw wouldn't be too bad."

"Well," Harry commented, "I guess I'd be in Gryffindor, then."

He tried to push off some odd feeling he got in the back of his mind.

_Slytherin._

_

* * *

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Thanks!


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